


In The Back of Our Mind

by KibaKyrdimir



Series: Broken Blade [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Alien Culture, Alien Planet, Alien Sex, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Angst and Feels, Backstory, Blade of Marmora Keith (Voltron), Bonding, Digital Art, Dom/sub Undertones, Emotional, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s05e04 Kral Zera, Feels, Gay Keith (Voltron), Half-Galra Keith (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Illustrations, Intersex Keith (Voltron), Knotting, M/M, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Keith (Voltron), One-Sided Keith/Shiro (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), Post-Episode: s02e08 The Blade of Marmora, Psychic Bond, Scenting, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Worth Issues, Somnophilia, Soul Bond, Teratophilia, The Blade of Marmora - Freeform, Vacation, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:21:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 112,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25979680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KibaKyrdimir/pseuds/KibaKyrdimir
Summary: The Sanctioned Sequel to HypotheticalWoman's "The Blades and the Bees" Story:Following their recent bonding, Vrek and Keith continue their work as operatives of the Blade of Marmora and attempt to navigate what their new life together might mean. Keith learns more about the Galra that he has fallen in love with, and Vrek must face the parts of his past that he thought he had left behind.Now, with love in his heart and his mate at his side- Keith’s struggle against the Galra Empire is given new meaning as he fights for the future that he can have with his bond mate.
Relationships: Antok/Kolivan (Voltron), Ilun & Keith & Regris & Vrek (Voltron), Keith/Vrek (Voltron)
Series: Broken Blade [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2048603
Comments: 158
Kudos: 95





	1. The Mission*

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HypotheticalWoman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HypotheticalWoman/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Blades and the Bees](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16602347) by [HypotheticalWoman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HypotheticalWoman/pseuds/HypotheticalWoman). 



> This piece is a Sequel to HypotheticalWoman's Story: The Blade's and the Bees.  
> A big, BIG thank you to HypotheticalWoman for all of her well-wishes and support in this whole endeavor. This whole project spurred from how absolutely wonderful her characterization of Vrek was- and my own selfish desire to want to see more Keith/ Vrek out here.
> 
> Fair warning- this story is about 70% plot, roughly 30% sex. So there shall be a lot of feels, pain, and emotional trauma, and I hope that you are all here for it. Any chapters with explicit sex shall be marked with an asterisk (*). 
> 
> There shall be illustrations to accompany this fic, and the illustrations were done by the INCREDIBLE @eeniiart on Twitter. Her Voltron work is absolutely delightful and please give her a follow for all the Klance.

Keith was comfortable.

He was wet, he was hot, and he was currently suspended in a tree 20 meters above solid ground. But he wasn’t alone. Nestled against Vrek, he closed his eyes and focused on the slow rise and fall of his mate’s breathing against his back, and the reassuring embrace of his arms wrapped protectively around him. Still, the torturous tapping of constant rainfall against the canopy above them had a way of grating on Keith’s nerves, allowing any semblance of quiet to elude him. 

They had been in this tree for the better half of the last movement, sneaking down the branches for the occasional reconnaissance or to make their way back to their ship for supplies. This small moon was covered in more foliage than Keith could’ve possibly described. And the rain had never stopped. Dense thunderstorms blocked out all light during the day under an almost painful barrage of rainfall- only to subside in the night in to an almost gentler shower. 

The pair of arms tightened around his waist as Vrek let out a discontented sigh. “You’re not sleeping.”

“I’m not tired.” It was a lie. Keith was sure Vrek could _feel_ the bone-aching exhaustion through their shared bond, and likewise, Keith could feel Vrek’s chiding his stubbornness.

Hot breath warmed the back of Keith’s neck as his mate sighed. Words were not spoken; instead, Vrek scented Keith and placed one of his hands over Keith’s beating heart: holding his love’s life in his hands.

It wasn’t fair. Keith didn’t want to sleep. And yet, here was his mate, slowly dragging him towards blissful unconsciousness as the tension in him drifted away to be replaced only by the warmth and calming presence of his love. _You don’t play fair._

The amusement in Vrek’s mind was echoed by the soft rumble of barely contained laughter that only manifested itself as a smirk that Keith could see without even having to turn to face his mate. “I’m a spy, darling. Playing fair was never my strong suit.”

The mechanical whirr of a pair of Galra fighters cut through the sky above them, too high and too late to be a routine patrol but still loud enough to momentarily silence the chirrups and croaking of the wildlife around them. Their brief moment of solitude interrupted as what little peace they could save for themselves evaporated.

“We should check to see what that was.” Keith gently prodded Vrek through their bond, trying to rouse his mate from his slumber by exaggerating the growing fears of possible danger and anxiety musing their way into Keith’s subconsciousness. 

_You need to rest, Keith._ Vrek tried best he could to ignore his mate’s troubled fears, instead squeezing him tighter and letting his strong alpha scent envelop his mate.

They both knew that they were both right. Keith wasn’t sleeping well and any exhaustion could dull his senses or slow his reaction time. At the same time, any irregularity in the Galra’s routine would need to be investigated. Their mission was to survey a newly established weapons manufacturing facility: patrol timing, force numbers, shift changes, resupplies- anything that could give the Blades an edge in a future incursion. After their bond training had been completed, they needed to prove to Kolivan that they could still be an effective team in the field together.

They rappelled from their little nook in the tree-tops down to the floor below, only to sink in to the thick mud that composed the entire forest floor. The trek to their vantage point overlooking the Galra base was a brief but strenuous one, each step harder to take, as the ground seemed to want to pull at their boots down further and further in the moon’s surface.

Vrek stepped on to the bark of a downed tree and outstretched a helping hand towards Keith to pull him out of the suffocating vegetation. “Try to keep your footing on the vines. You’ll be less likely to sink.”

“These vines weren’t here a quintant ago, were they?” Keith clasped Vrek’s arm and was hauled up to more solid ground.

“They weren’t. The radiation from the dwarf star above us causes all the plantlife to grow at an alarming rate. Staying up in that tree was to protect us from the fauna as much as it was to protect us from any predators."

Keith grinned a sly grin at Vrek, and leaned against him to bathe himself in his Alpha’s scent. _You just wanted an excuse to hold on to me all night._ Keith teased.

Keith could feel Vrek blush moments before he felt an arm slide around his backside to give him a teasing squeeze. _I don’t really need an excuse, do I? But… you’re not wrong._

The Galra base jutted out of the forest greenery like a cancer. The lush, green landscape carved out and disrupted by the imposing black and purple structure bisected the nature like an infection in an open wound. Separating the base from the forest was a plasma fence: tall towers emitting a burning and sparking wall of impenetrable heat that would burn any vines or trees that threatened the sanctity of the Galra’s metal sanctuary.

Their focus was pulled to the landing pad just north of the base. The Galra ship that had transported materials and personnel to staff the base had been here as long as the base had been operational, and now, it was preparing to leave.

“The fighters from before were escorts,” muttered Keith.

“It’s too early for the first shipment of weapons to be ready. Why leave?” replied Vrek in an equally hushed tone.

“Maybe it’s the coalition? Is there an operation happening somewhere in a nearby sector?”

Vrek considered the possibility, his brow furrowing in distress. “If it is, the Galra look like they’re mobilizing reinforcements. But we can’t risk warning the coalition, not when our transmission could be intercepted. It could expose our presence here."

The two watched in silence for another few ticks before Keith spoke again. “How many soldiers do you think they’re taking with them?”

“Even operating on a skeleton-crew, a ship that size would reduce the amount of personnel in the base by a significant percentage. A full regiment would mean that-“

“-that the base is almost entirely empty." Keith finished the sentence, with a plan already starting to form.

Vrek could see where this was going. It was leading to them both getting yelled at by Kolivan. “We’re supposed to observe." _Strictly observe._ The tone through their bond was laced with worry and concern: Vrek didn’t want to place his love in unnecessary danger. 

Keith turned his attention away from the base and towards his mate. “We’re the only ones here that know what we’re dealing with. If we attack now, other Blade’s won’t have to. Besides, with the base as empty as it is now... this may be the best chance we get."

Vrek took Keith’s hands in his own. _Keith. Darling. Kolivan would kill us if we didn’t at least get his permission first._

Keith thought about the reprimand they were sure to get, and he weighed it against a successful blow against the Galra Empire. Keith’s chain of thought interrupted, as Vrek’s own thoughts offered a welcome presence in his mind. 

_I DID say that we couldn’t risk sending a transmission._ The echoing agreement in his mate’s thoughts reminded Keith why he loved him. Vrek was here for him. Even leading Voltron, his decisions were brokered with disagreements and criticism, but here- now, his mate backed him up. It was all that he needed. Vrek knew as much as Keith did that this was going to be the best chance they got at taking out this base. Keith’s logic was sound, and regardless of the ass-chewing that Kolivan was sure to give them upon their return to base, it was the right decision to make.

Keith placed his arm around his mate’s shoulder. Vrek was larger than him, but here, crouched in the underbrush, they were almost the same height. The two Blades pulled up the hoods on their uniforms and activated their facemasks.

“On Earth we would say ‘Ask for forgiveness instead of asking for permission’." The smile that danced across Keith’s face wasn’t visible, but Vrek could feel his mate’s happiness spread through his entire being like a warm fire on a cold winter night. 

“Ah yes. Words of wisdom spoken by a human that has never had to melt under the disapproving glare of our leader Kolivan.” Vrek playfully shrugged his mate’s arm off his shoulder and nudged him with his elbow.

“Another human phrase is ‘if looks could kill’.” Keith offered.

“That would more accurately describe Kolivan." The laughter that tinged Vrek’s voice was giddy, and Keith would never tire from hearing it. Dropping to a more serious tone, Vrek looked back at the base and considered their options. “Do you have a plan?”

Keith pulled his luxite blade from its sheath in an overtly theatrical display at the excitement that could only be attributed to wreaking havoc on the Galra Empire. “Sneak in. Overload the reactor core. Steal a ship. Leave." Keith beamed with pride at the beautiful simplicity of it all, his blade humming with power almost as if it approved of his plan.

Vrek put his hand to his chin and mulled over the options. Keith could feel Vrek formulating something else in his mind. After some time, Vrek finally said, “I’ve got another idea."

Keith’s protests were quelled as Vrek soothed him through their bond. _Keith. Darling. My beautiful and fierce warrior… subtlety is not your strong suit._

Keith grumbled that such flattery would not work on him.

Vrek knew the flattery would most certainly work on him.

“Fine. What do you have in mind?” Keith sheathed his blade and crossed his arms over his chest in a childish display of contempt that Vrek found utterly adorable.

“Sneak past the barrier. Overload their systems in a few critical places, enough to shut down production AND shut off the barrier. We make it look like an electrical shortage caused by one of the storms. It will take the Galra forces some time to find the root of the problem, even more time to replace the damaged circuits. By the time they’d be able to bring the factory back up and running, the local fauna will have overgrown the base and force them to scrub the whole facility.”

Vrek waited a few ticks for Keith to acknowledge the details of his plan. It was a good plan. Keith knew it was a good plan. But he didn’t want Vrek to know that it was a good plan.

_I already know that you know that it’s a good plan_. Vrek’s thoughts invaded Keith’s mind, teasing him, and Vrek’s own smugness made Keith roll his eyes behind the glowing purple of his facemask.

“Don’t make me regret bonding to you,” Keith quipped back- with no malice present in his voice. Just the playful banter of two kids in love.

Vrek laced his fingers with Keith’s, taking a tight hold of his hand as he steered them down towards the plasma fence that encircled the base. _Come on, my love._ “We can blow something up next time."

_\---_

The Galra ship was still being loaded up with supplies by the time Vrek and Keith made it down to the fence. With all their attention focused on the landing pad, no one should notice the two Blades slipping into the base.

Vrek disabled a small portion of the fence and the two of them snuck in the compound. They kept close to each other, moving as a single shadow throughout the outer perimeter of the base. The priority here was stealth. Every corner was checked as the two spies silently stalked their way over to an entrance. The tall archway of the imposing glowing double doors provided them some cover before they entered the base proper, allowing them but a moment to review their plan before there was no turning back.

Vrek pulled Keith close so that they could be shielded from all sight in the archway of that door, and for a brief second, their mission faded away as the two mates stood chest-to-chest, faces inches apart as they gazed into each other’s facemasks, clearly looking beyond the cold black faceplate. In that moment Keith could see Vrek’s gold eyes: glowing with all the hope and optimism that drove him. He didn’t ever want to let go. 

“Alright-“ his voice barely above a whisper, Vrek outlined his plan: “- We are here on the South side of the base. In order for this to work we need to short-out both the main power generator on the West quadrant of the base as well as the backup generator for the perimeter fence located towards the East."

Keith’s heart sank as he braced himself for what was coming next. Before Vrek could say it- Keith blurted out what they both knew would have to happen. “If we split up, we can be in and out of the base within ten doboshes."

The words lingered there for a tick before Vrek spoke back up, his grip on Keith tightening further. “We can go to each generator together…”

Vrek didn’t want to leave Keith’s side. He was Keith’s Alpha. He needed to be sure that Keith was safe. But the idea that they would be able to stick together was foolhardy at best, and they couldn’t compromise their mission.

_I’ll be okay, Vrek_. Keith leaned in towards his alpha, resting his head against his chest to allow his mate to be bathed in the reassuring presence of his scent. “No. The longer we stay here, the higher the risk of us getting caught. Once the power goes out for the main facility, the guards will start looking for answers. We need to do this as fast as possible."

Vrek could only nod. Keith was right. This was his plan, and they both needed to work as efficiently as possible- anything less, and the chances of either of them getting caught would rise exponentially every moment that they lingered.

A spark of that awful thought flashed through their minds, and neither was sure who thought it- but if either of them would be captured by the Galra, whatever little time they had left to live would be filled with pain and misery. A deep fear was seared in Keith’s core, Vrek’s worry feeling like a kindling that was about to come in contact with an extremely large amount of combustible fuel. To bond mates- being captured and killed would be the easier way to die; living out the remainder of your days without the other half of your life would be a far greater pain… a pain that neither of them could even begin to comprehend.

Both Keith and Vrek shook the thought out of their heads. No. That would not happen to either of them. They couldn’t pay any credence to that possibility, not when the mere thought alone would cripple them.

Once Vrek was able to compose himself, he continued, “Take out the main generator in the West. I’ll take out the back up for the fence. Our ship is straight out of the base towards the West, so you’ll be closer to it. Once the fence goes down, run. I’ll be right behind you." Vrek gave Keith’s hand a squeeze, a promise that he would be there.

With that, Vrek turned and opened the door behind them, and the two saboteurs slipped inside the Galra base. At the end of the first junction, Keith turned left and Vrek turned right. When the moment came and the two had to separate, they hesitated. Neither of them wanted to let go of each other’s hands, but as their feet started to carry them down opposite sides of the hallway, their hands stayed locked together until their outstretched arms could give no further- and their grasp slipped and gave way to bitter emptiness.

They had trained for this. They didn’t suffer through the hell of bond training to freeze when the moment demanded it. They had passed every test that Antok had been able to hurl at them: the two Blades could still operate as independents from one another, even if that wasn’t their preferred choice, they could still be just as effective alone.

Perhaps this whole mission was a test from Kolivan? Maybe Kolivan sent them on an observation mission together so that they wouldn’t have to withstand the pain of being apart from one another. Perhaps in doing this- they would even surpass all of Kolivan’s expectations of them? Whatever the case may be- it couldn’t be contemplated now. They had a job to do.

\---

The Galra base was as standard as one might possibly imagine: narrow corridors with high ceilings and deep, purple lighting, with pillars creating alcoves of space every few steps. The Blades had trained for this specifically, it was the ideal scenario: plenty of blind spots and not a lot of light. 

No sooner than Keith had rounded the first corner and disappeared from Vrek’s line of sight did he feel Vrek tugging on their bond, a blossoming hue of concern warming through Keith’s core as if he was being held. _Are you okay?_

Keith couldn’t help but find it funny. Vrek was acting like a love-sick puppy without a master. _Vrek, I’ve been out of your sight for what? 5 ticks? I’m fine._ He pushed back a reassuring presence of calming thoughts back towards his mate- letting the gradual pastel colors of his serenity wash over Vrek to ease his mind. 

Of course Keith understood Vrek’s pain. He understood that with each step he took away from Vrek, that the harder it would be. But Vrek’s presence in both his heart and his mind were still there, and Keith could still feel the love that was emanating from his mate through their bond. While that love wouldn’t fade no matter how far apart they were, Keith couldn’t help the sinking feeling of cold reaching out for him. His alpha should be by his side. It didn’t feel right to be going anywhere without him.

_Vrek? Are you alright?_

Vrek’s response was immediate and almost playful. _Now who is the love-sick puppy?_

_You weren’t supposed to hear ALL of that!_ The smile that grew across Keith’s face would’ve betrayed their occupation and their reason for being here. _Besides… at least I waited a whole dobosh._

\---

The rest of Keith’s journey to the main power generator was uneventful. He only ran across two guards, and was able to hear the heavy clank of their march long before he would’ve been seen. Vrek’s trip to the perimeter fence must’ve been more eventful, because Keith had felt his own adrenaline start to surge and his heart rate quicken more than once- without the threat of any enemy in sight. _Any trouble, Vrek?_

_Nothing I can’t handle, darling_. Vrek’s voice was clear and calming in his mind, but Keith could feel the anxiety betraying the even candor of his voice as clear as if Keith himself were a deer caught in the headlights of oncoming traffic.

He needed to work quickly. Surely if something happened to the base’s main power source, then it would draw the attention of every Galra soldier back towards him. It was dangerous, but it would no doubt draw the attention away from Vrek and allow him to disable the fence without any other form of distraction. 

Sliding his knife back out of its sheath, Keith crouched down near a small square panel under an important looking console. Jamming his knife between two panels, the slightest twist of his blade caused the panel to pop off and clatter on to the floor. In the dead silence of the empty hallways of the base, the crashing of the metal on the floor almost seemed like an alarm in of itself. 

_SHIT_. Keith couldn’t stop the thought from reverberating through his being, and Vrek’s instantaneous panic started to bleed into his focus. Before his mate came barreling back down the hallway towards him, Keith pressed warmth and safety back through their bond. Keith stammered out into his comms in the softest voice he could manage, “I’m fine. Everything is fine. I made it to a power regulator. I can fry the systems here and burn out the power for the whole grid." Keith half-expected to hear the shuffling of guards edging closer to investigate the noise, but all he was greeted with was a dead-silence and complete stillness.

“Just be careful of the grounding wire." Vrek’s voice was soft but his words were dripping with worry, and if Keith closed his eyes he could almost imagine Vrek standing right behind him- watching him work.

_I know- I know_. Keith stripped the wire of its insulation, and pressed the wire down on the exposed circuitry until small plumes of smoke started to rise from the delicate machinery. A small spark jumped up from the wiring in Keith’s hand, and a beat later- all the lights in the base shut off with the satisfying hum of machinery grinding to a halt. 

On a timer now, Keith popped the panel back on to the wall and prepared himself for a run. _I’m done. What’s your status?_

_Almost there. Go, I’m right behind you._

Keith glided down the hallway, running as fast as he could. He didn’t have to worry about noise: guards were already shouting confused orders that masked any noise that his footsteps would’ve made, and his black Blade suit blending him in with the deep black darkness of the hallways. The layout of the winding paths were easy to navigate, solid footing and a sterile precision to the length of each corridor. He could run through these hallways blindfolded, which was a reassuring gamble because that is what it felt like he was doing. 

It was so dark that he almost didn’t notice that he was outside until the frigid, temperature-controlled air of the base was replaced with the dense, humid air of the moon’s surface. The fence was already down- and without the searing hot light of burning plasma illuminating the perimeter of the base everything was plunged into the vast cover of night. 

Keith could barely see where he was going. His mask compensated for low-light, but it was meant to assist with the vision of a Galra, and was nowhere near well-equipped enough to handle an environment that was absolutely devoid of light. He ran into a few branches, stumbled in the mud more than once- but the thoughts in his mind told him to keep moving, and so he did.

He was starting to get tired. His lungs were on fire and his legs were threatening to fail him. Keith didn’t know how long he was running for, or how much further the ship was, but he boiled down every thought he had to moving forward and placing one leg in front of the other for as long as he could. He lost his footing, and he briefly registered the weightless panic of falling, but before impact could be made with the ground he was jerked back to his feet. Someone had caught him.

“Omega, go!” Vrek’s voice wasn’t a whisper… it was an order. Spoken in volumes louder than they had allowed themselves to use in days, and spoken in a tone that was usually reserved for the more intimate times they spent together. Keith obeyed his alpha.

They both slammed against the side of something metal not long after. Keith still couldn’t see much, but he didn’t have to. Vrek’s vision was far superior to Keith’s, as his glowing eyes soaked up all the details that Keith was blind to. Vrek punched a command code to the ship, and they both scrambled in to the small cargo area of the transport they had arrived in. Keith’s back hit the floor with a thud seconds before Vrek practically fell on top of Keith’s chest. Red emergency lighting filled the interior of the tiny ship, and suddenly Keith could see again. In the soft, muted lighting of that tiny ship- all Keith could see was Vrek, his mate, staring back down at him.

Both Blades were high on adrenaline. Both were so relieved that they had been reunited. Both had felt the dread and loneliness of being separated for even the briefest of moments that all they wanted to do was curl up together and never leave each other’s side again.

Keith gazed in to Vrek’s warm, golden eyes, and Vrek stared back in to the enchanting violet of Keith’s. Nothing needed to be said. They were together again.

They were both dripping in sweat. Keith’s hair was matted to his forehead and his heart was absolutely pounding out of his chest. Vrek’s eyes dropped down to the quick rise and fall of his mate’s chest. _You’re so beautiful._

Vrek was still pinning Keith to the floor- and with their bodies pressed together like this it suddenly became very apparent of their aching need for each other. The realization was sudden, and the reaction was almost instant. Their mouths pressed together in a desperate bid to taste one another as their tongues danced together and their hands both sought to hold on to one another for dear life. Keith’s hands coming to a rest behind Vrek’s ears elicited a gentle purr from his mate- a purr that Keith was quick to inhale. Vrek’s sharp claws threaded through Keith’s hair and coaxed a whine out of his omega. Pleasure echoed through their bond until they could no longer determine which one of them was moaning. 

The only intelligible thought that either of them could decipher was that they were both wearing far too much clothing. 

Keith’s movements were needy and desperate, but somehow he found the dexterity to grab the zipper at the back of Vrek’s suit and yank downwards, but there wasn’t much leverage from where Keith was laying- and he only managed to get the zipper down between his mate’s shoulder blades.  
  
Vrek smashed his mouth against Keith’s, the desire to taste each other taking priority over everything else. Their kiss was messy and needy, teeth colliding against fangs in an utterly ungraceful display of passion. Vrek bit down on Keith’s lower lip just hard enough to pull a soft yelp from his mate. They lapped and licked and nibbled on each other’s tongues as their hot breath echoed into each other’s mouths in choked gasps of ecstasy. 

Keith’s hands wandered up Vrek’s still clothed torso, all the way up his lover's body until they could come to rest cupping his face in the palm of his hands. Vrek pulled away from the kiss they were sharing, pausing to stare down and admire his mate. Keith’s eyes were dilated, his breath labored, his skin coated in a glossy sheen of sweat from their escape from the clutches of danger. 

Keith’s hands started to drift down his mate’s neck, sliding down the collar of Vrek’s suit before pulling outwards, peeling the suit down his mate’s shoulders and rolling them down as best he could. It was enough. His eyes lingered on his mate’s short, velvety fur, and the subtle scar on his scent gland from when the two had completed their bonding. Keith leaned up from the floor and sucked down over the teeth marks that he had left on his mate, drinking in Vrek’s delicious alpha scent with all the fervor that would rival one of his heats. 

Vrek’s response was immediate, his moan loud and unrestrained as one of his hands slid back to cradle his mate’s head in his arm. One of Vrek’s sharp, clawed hands weaved themselves through Keith's silky black hair while the other hand grabbed the hidden zipper on the back of Keith’s suit, and pulled it all the way down.

Keith arched his back and allowed his mate to pull his suit off of his supple human body, until his mate held his naked form in his powerful arms. He pressed his knee up into the apex of his lover’s crotch, and allowed his partner to grind his hard length against him. 

Vrek let out a low growl as he placed Keith back down against the floor, and pulled the rest of his own suit down until he too was as exposed as Keith. Crawling back over his mate’s body, Vrek peppered kisses gently up Keith’s chest, until the two were once again face to face. 

The air between the two froze in the moment before Vrek pushed himself into Keith. Keith could feel the blunt, hard head of his mate’s cock spearing him open, sliding into him with a slow and deliberate pace that let them both feel everything. Between all the slick that Vrek’s cock was producing, and the heavy arousal of all the slick that Keith could feel himself leaking, he offered little resistance as his mate gradually pressed his entire length inside the smaller blade. 

Soft gasps and heavy breathing filled the small ship as each ridge and bump along Vrek’s cock nudged Keith to higher and higher peaks. He wouldn’t be able to hold himself back much longer and his mate had not even fully filled him yet.

Keith was absolutely the tightest thing that Vrek ever had the pleasure to fuck. When he finally bottomed out inside of his mate, he noticed that the soft and ragged breaths that were straining Keith had come to a stop. Keith was holding his breath. Vrek could feel that his mate was on the precipice of his climax, trying to hold himself back. Keith was teetering on the edge of something big, and only needed but a single push to send him hurtling towards his own bliss. 

Vrek eased in to their shared bond, sending the single thought of, _Let go…._ He coupled his thoughts with a very deliberate grind of his hips against Keith’s.

Keith responded with an erratic buck of his hips as his orgasm claimed him. An entire movement’s worth of repressed urges came pouring out of him in the form of his release. He painted both of their chests with his come as he fell into the abyss that was his absolute satisfaction. If there was any air left in Keith’s lungs, he would have screamed.

Riding on the high of his mate’s climax, Vrek could feel the pleasure he had caused his mate like a cool ice-bath on a hot summer’s day. The muscles in Keith’s body all tensed and relaxed in waves that Vrek could only register as his mate trying to milk his seed out of his cock.

As Keith returned from his state of mindlessness, he realized that his mate hadn’t moved within him. “Vrek… pleeeease."

“In a moment, darling," Vrek held himself inside of Keith, unmoving, allowing Keith to squeeze down on his cock without Vrek having to do any work at all. The thought danced across Vrek’s mind that he could surely finish like this if he had wanted to. After a few moments of basking in Keith’s afterglow, Vrek pulled his hips back and dragged his cock out of his mate. He could feel how badly his mate didn’t want him to leave, and how empty he would feel without him. 

Keith tensed, his muscles squeezing down on him as if to keep him inside of his warmth, a needy whine rumbling within the back of his throat as he pushed wanton thoughts against his mate. When his mate was finally free of his clutches, the hollowness in Keith’s core threatened to break him apart.  
  
Vrek leaned down over his mate, lapping at his chest as he began to clean Keith’s come off of his torso and continuing his attentions further and further down his body. He savored the salty substance as his dextrous Galra tongue scooped up every last drop of the precious liquid off of his bond mate. Upon reaching his mate’s hips, Vrek ran a single, solitary lick up from the base of Keith’s cock before suckling at the head as if to draw out any lingering seed that may still be there. 

Keith writhed under Vrek’s ministrations, burning his hands into the back of his mate’s hair as his dull fingernails scraped at the back of his skull. 

“Omega, turn over," Vrek’s voice was commanding as he pulled himself off of his lover’s cock. Keith obeyed without hesitation. 

Moving into position, Keith mewled as he presented himself to his alpha, his slick already dripping down his thighs in anticipation. 

Vrek hovered over him, resting his cock against the curve of Keith’s backside. Vrek wouldn’t consider himself very well-endowed for the average Galra, but he was surely larger than any human that his mate could take. His claws came to rest on his mate’s lower back, sliding up in a leisurely pace before stopping at Keith’s shoulders. Vrek pressed down, and his omega instantly arched his back for his mate and settled on his forearms, with his cheek pressed against the ground in complete submission. 

Vrek positioned himself at Keith’s entrance, feeling his own cock throb with the need of his own sweet release. He pressed himself back into his mate, and allowed Keith’s warm slick to pull him in to his core. When Vrek was once again sheathed fully within his mate, he pressed his forehead to the back of Keith’s neck and ran his tongue up against Keith’s spine, pulling a shudder of approval from him.

This time, Vrek did not pause to admire the softness of his mate, and instead started to rock back and forth inside of his omega. Gentle rocking turned in to thrusting, before the thrusting turning into a more animalistic pace of two creatures just fucking. 

The pleasure that they were both immersed in was heaven, with Keith’s gut-twisting sensation of being filled by his mate being answered by his mate’s echoing cries of how good it felt to fill him. Before long, Vrek could begin to feel himself knotting as each thrust took more and more effort, with Keith’s tight form wanting to lock his mate’s cock inside of him. 

_Not done yet_. Neither could discern who the thought came from.

Vrek gripped Keith’s hips in his hands, the sharp points of his claws digging into the yielding skin of his mate. He was locked inside of his mate, and at any other time, that would have been that. But right now, they both just needed _more._ Vrek pulled his hips backwards, holding his omega in place as he almost violently tried to free himself from Keith’s embrace. With one final tug to prove that it could be done, Vrek’s knot popped free from his mate, and the relief of such pressure caused them both to groan.

_More_. The thought drummed through both of their minds as Vrek immediately began to press his knot back against Keith’s entrance. If the two could’ve managed a single coherent thought between them, they might have questioned whether or not it was physically possible to stretch Keith’s entrance around his knot. 

Keith burned around the stretch and gritted his teeth. It wasn’t so much painful as it was just… a lot. But he needed to feel his mate filling him, and so Keith braced his hands against the bulkhead in front of him and pushed himself back against Vrek’s knot with all the might that he could muster. 

All the air left Vrek as if he had been punched in the stomach, as his mate’s tight folds swallowed his knot with a greediness that he didn’t think was possible. The pleasure that was echoing through their bond was almost tangible as Keith could feel his mate’s pleasure as if his own cock was buried in such delectable warmth.

This was their new pace. With Vrek pulling his already fully engorged knot out of his tight omega before slamming himself back in with an almost sickening squelching sound caused by both the pressure and excess of slick. Vrek had never done this before, not even during the worst of heats he had assisted with in the past, nor had the thought ever once occurred to him in the privacy of his own fantasies, but here... knot-fucking his mate into oblivion, Vrek couldn’t deny that the pleasure it was giving them was absolutely mind melting. Vrek was chasing his own peak, and he was almost there.

Keith felt Vrek’s chest press against the arch of his back as Vrek’s breath warmed the back of his neck. Strong arms wrapped around Keith's stomach and gave a gentle squeeze as Vrek slammed himself into Keith one last time before letting his orgasm burst through him.

Hot, pale blue seed filled the deepest recesses of Keith’s being as he was flooded by both come as well as the powerful sense of relief being felt by his mate. That was all it took for Keith to cry out as another orgasm tore through his body like a wildfire emanating from their bond, and whatever come Keith still had left to give dribbled out onto the floor as he convulsed in pleasure. Their simultaneous climax only proved to stretch both of them to almost insufferable depths, each partner feeling as if they had been set ablaze by the other’s own ecstasy.

Still tied to one another, Vrek pulled them both down until they both laid on their sides. Keith placed a hand on his stomach as he felt pulse after pulse of his mate’s cock tremble with the last spurts of his climax. 

They had needed that.


	2. The Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Vrek return to the Marmora Base from their "successful" mission, and resume their lives as Blade Operatives.

It had taken them some time to untangle themselves from each other. 

  
The sweaty mess of mates still lay bare on the floor of their small transport ship, slowly coming down from their adrenal high and drifting back into the reality around them.  
  
Uncertainty permeated the world around them: they were still on a hostile moon, and mere kilometers away from an occupied -but currently in distress- Galra base. They needed to leave. 

_Love…_ Vrek’s thoughts nudged Keith’s. Both Blades were aware that they would have to leave the comfort that they found in their own physical proximity in order to start the preparations to begin their return trip back to the Blade’s base.

 _I know, I know._ Keith sighed. He didn’t want to get up. He didn’t want to leave this moment. He would rather lay here in the arms of his mate for the rest of their lives before having to face the war-torn galaxy that stood between them and their everlasting happiness. But before that, they would have to face something else entirely: something far more frightening than could be matched by an entire Galra Battlecruiser. _Are we that eager to get back for Kolivan’s lecture?_

 _Ugh… don’t remind me._ Vrek gingerly lifted his mate’s arms off of his chest, sliding out from under him as he began to meander across the small hull of their ship in order to search for his discarded articles of clothing. 

_Come on, darling… what’s the worst Kolivan could do to us?_ Keith sat up from the floor, resting on both of his elbows. The hard metal wasn’t very kind to his soft skin, but the view of his mate bending over to pick up his body suit made it entirely worth it. 

_I suppose_ … Vrek began to pull his body suit on, sliding his legs back into the skin tight texture before continuing his train of thought out loud. “It has been deca-phoebes since Kolivan has executed any Blades as a form of administrative punishment…”  
  
All of the color drained from Keith’s face as he suddenly found it much harder to speak. Keith’s voice escaped him like the dying cry of a small animal, “He… he wouldn’t. Would he?”  
  
Vrek couldn’t face his mate, he couldn't even hide the warm plume of laughter that was starting to bloom throughout his bond mate’s psyche. Keith could feel Vrek’s mischievous playfulness manifesting itself in lieu of words.  
  
Keith flung one of Vrek’s boots across the room at him, hitting Vrek square between his shoulders. Vrek’s laughter was immediate. Keith laid back against the floor, his groan of annoyance muffled as he pulled his crumpled Blades suit over his face, trying to hide his embarrassment at falling for such a juvenile joke. 

Vrek bent down and wrapped his hands around Keith’s slender waist, and hoisted him up until he was in a standing position. Keith’s face was still beet-red as Vrek slid his hands further back, allowing both of his arms to wrap lovingly around his mate’s waist. Letting out a deep sigh, Vrek bent down to nuzzle his face against the crook of Keith’s neck, laying soft kisses up an imaginary line on Keith’s throat as an apology for his deception. _Come on, darling. Get dressed._ Vrek punctuated his request by pressing his tongue against the scent gland along Keith’s neck giving him a long lick as some slight encouragement to quell his pouting. _Don’t make me order you._

Keith’s response was instantaneous as he shuddered in Vrek’s grasp, stretching his head to give Vrek more room to keep going. A soft, needy mewling sound squeaked out of Keith’s throat almost completely subconsciously, a sound so pathetic that Keith would deny having ever made it until the day he died. But he relented to his mate’s wishes all the same. _Fine. But only because now I’m going to tell Kolivan that the whole thing was your idea._

\---

It took them less than an hour to prepare their ship for departure. Clearing the vines that had already began to snake their way through their ship’s landing gear was made easy with their Luxite Blades, and the process had become almost mechanical to them, as they had routinely done so whenever they had to return to their ship for food and supplies from their observation post in the trees closer to the Galra base. 

Once they had returned to the safety of their ship, they had immediately fallen against each other and started peeling the suits off of their partner. The two mates needed to feel their skin against each other, each of them feeling like their bodies were on fire and that the only thing that would make the flames inside them subside would be the cool feeling of pressing themselves against their mate. Satisfyingly stripped down to their undergarments, Vrek and Keith scented each other for a few brief moments before settling into the cockpit. 

The transport was kept on low power as they lifted off- keeping close to the treetops to avoid visual detection from the Galra. The instruments of the Galra base would still be offline, so they wouldn’t have to worry about tracking and radar; but any foot soldier would clearly be able to see the lights of their thrusters if they had tried to leave the atmosphere so close to the compound. Once they had cleared visual range and had passed over the horizon, Keith pulled the ship up in a sharp incline and sped straight out of the moon’s orbit. 

Once the shuttle had been swallowed by the dark void of space, Vrek began typing out a message to relay back to the Blades.

**[GALRA BASE SABOTAGED. EXPECT REMOVAL OF GALRA FORCES WITHIN 3 QUINTANTS]**

Vrek glanced at Keith before sending the message, and then they waited in silence. Vrek was expecting a message back within a few ticks asking for a more elaborate explanation. Keith expected a message reminding them that their mission was recon only. But neither of them were prepared for the nearly 5 doboshes of utter soundlessness that felt like an eternity before their communications finally blipped back with the single reply of:

  
**[ACKNOWLEDGED]**

The singular image of Kolivan pacing back and forth in his office trying to let his rage subside before being able to reply to their message occupied the thoughts of both the blades. Somehow, the single word response that they had received from their leader seemed more threatening and ominous than any other response could have been.

“Well…” Keith started, placing their transport in autopilot before slouching back in his seat. “It’ll take us a few vargas to get back to the base. So we have our stay of execution.”

“Why must all human proverbs be laced with such morbidity?” Vrek slouched back as well, turning his head to admire the profile of his mate’s sharp jawline, and the piercing gaze that punched through the emptiness of space. 

“They’re not all bad…” Keith lifted his shoulders in a shrug, genuinely trying to conjure up any other expression that wouldn’t remind them of death or gloom, “A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush?” 

Vrek’s confused expression was punctuated by the absolutely befuddled tone he had when he asked, “What-?”

“Listen, I don’t know... But people say it.” Keith offered.

\---

Their return to the base was unceremonious. Before the ship had even landed, the two of them noticed Antok standing in the hangar- arms crossed and an expression entirely hidden behind the face-mask he wore. 

_Whelp, shit. Here we go_. Keith’s thoughts weren’t laced with worry, but rather resignation. The ship was powered down, and Vrek and Keith dressed and inspected each other’s uniforms to make sure they both looked as presentable as possible. 

They approached Antok, their heads held high knowing that their accomplishments struck at the heart of the Empire, but not three paces out of their ship was that pride stamped out by Antok’s annoyed tone when he said “Kolivan wishes to speak with you both, now.”

Vrek was about to open his mouth to protest, to say that after an entire movement on-mission that they would need to rest, or eat, or shower. But any words Vrek might have had were stolen from his mouth by Antok.

“NOW.”

With that, Antok turned and took his leave. A warm, soft presence filled Vrek’s mind as Keith stepped closer to him and seized his hand. Keith gave Vrek’s hand a reassuring squeeze, and Vrek squeezed back in appreciation, it was a subtle reminder. They were together.  
  
They were ready to face Kolivan. 

\---

They were not ready to face Kolivan. 

Both Vrek and Keith had seen Kolivan mad before. When word had reached Kolivan that the two had -despite all better judgement- bonded with each other, Kolivan had been mad. When Keith had disobeyed orders in the past, Kolivan had been mad. When Kolivan typically gets upset, his ire doesn’t manifest itself in shouting or yelling, instead, his calm exterior and scarred face communicate such disappointment that it makes you want to crawl into yourself and die. 

Today, the two blades saw something entirely different. 

Kolivan was simmering with rage, his stoicism fractured by the wrath that he was about to unleash on the two standing before him. Kolivan was pacing the length of his small office, glaring at the two blades that stood before him. Keith and Vrek were standing at attention, staring straight towards the wall, unable to meet their leader’s intensity. 

Vrek delivered a truncated verbal report of the events that had unfolded in the Galra base, which Keith was thankful for, because the brief moment that Keith’s eyes dared to meet with Kolivan’s, any words that could’ve been spoken died in his throat. When Vrek finished his report, the loud, thundering footsteps of Kolivan’s incessant pacing came to a halt, and a silence befell the room that was so deafening that Keith would swear that they had been sucked into the vacuum of space. Keith could hear a heartbeat pounding in his ears and he wasn’t sure whether or not the anxiety that was filling him was coming from himself or from Vrek. 

After a moment, Kolivan broke the silence, “I had _hoped_ that bonding with Vrek would make you a more stable team... and that Vrek would be able to reign you in and get you to _follow orders.”_ Kolivan stepped up to Vrek, their faces mere inches apart when he continued, “I can see that I was mistaken. And that the _only_ thing to come from such a pairing is that now, Keith’s rash, impulsive decisions are now executed with the precision of someone who knows what they’re doing.”

Keith considered that that could, in some reality, be misconstrued as a positive; but no sooner than he could congratulate himself or his mate did he find himself burning under the golden gaze of Kolivan as their leader shouted, “THAT WAS NOT A COMPLIMENT, KIT.”

Kolivan stepped away from Vrek, crossing nearly the entire length of his office before coming to a stop. Kolivan brought a hand up to his weary face, his thumb tracing the outline of the scar he wore: a painful reminder to him of what happens when orders aren’t followed. A sigh escaped their leader, his voice now barely above a whisper- forcing both Vrek and Keith to strain to hear what he had to say, “Disobedient, impetuous, reckless, impudent. These qualities are unbecoming of the Blade of Marmora. You fail to see time and time again that our fight against the Galra is a war of attrition.”

The criticism had stung, and they’d wounded Keith more, because he had known that each insult was aimed directly towards him. Keith knew that he was a bad Galra, he couldn’t just blindly follow orders; an opportunity had presented itself, and the two of them had acted. It didn’t even register to Keith that his hands were shaking until he felt Vrek’s sympathetic palm spread across his chest. Vrek gently eased Keith backwards until he was standing behind his Alpha, as if he could somehow bear the brunt of the punishment doled out to them by physically shielding his mate.

“The blades do not operate independently-” Kolivan started, the measured calm he was known for returning to his voice as his outrage ebbed away into bitter disappointment. “We were made aware of the presence of the base from one of our agents inside the Empire. A Blade was stationed at that outpost just before you arrived, and was feeding us information as to the internal operation of that facility. Your mission was to survey the external operations of the facility and _together_ , I would formulate a plan on how to strike the facility _and_ secure the safety of our agent.”

Keith felt a pang of guilt, recalling his initial decision to destroy the facility with all the Galra soldiers in it, “Leader, I... I didn’t know...”

“Of course you didn’t know. You just needed to trust that _I_ knew. With your sabotage of the base as… _successful_ as you may have claimed, the Empire may operate under the assumption that the base was sabotaged by one of the guards stationed there. At the very least, our agent can no longer provide us with information for fear that they might be under surveillance. At worst, you might have gotten them killed.”

Vrek and Keith turned to face each other, the apology that lingered between them was unspoken, both Keith for dragging Vrek in to his attack, and Vrek for not having the foresight to have predicted that something like this could have occurred. 

Kolivan waited for one of them to say something, and while Keith’s gaze wandered back down to the floor to wallow in his own self-pity, Vrek managed to find the courage to speak up, “Leader, I still believe that Keith made the correct call, and that the opportunity that had presented itself could not be missed. As the senior blade amongst us, I take full responsibility for the failure of our mission parameters and request that any disciplinary action be solely taken against me.”

Keith looked up at Vrek, pleading with Vrek through their bond, his worry bleeding into his subconscious like oil being spilled over a vast body of water. 

Before anything else could be said, Kolivan held a hand up to silence any would-be arguments. 

Kolivan looked between the both of them and continued, “That is very noble of you, Vrek, but disciplinary actions will not be necessary. Let the shame that you both feel now be the reminder that orders need to be followed, do I make myself clear?”

Both Vrek and Keith nodded. 

Keith stepped forward from behind the protective shadow being cast over him by his alpha, and said, “Leader… have you… have you heard from our operative in the base?”

Kolivan hesitated, “No. I have not. But that is not unusual. It may take some time for them to safely transmit a message to us once again.”

“Kolivan, I’m sorry. I didn’t know that-” Keith started to stammer, his words falling over themselves as he struggled to hold back the pain that would’ve come bursting forth if he had given any thought to the Blade that could now very well be being tortured for information because of him.

“Keith. You are not the Red Paladin here. This is not Voltron. We do not have the luxury or ability to destroy an entire armada in a single battle. Our work here is precise, calculated. Every move we make needs to have contingencies and failsafes. We each work together -for if a single cog fails- then our entire order may fall apart. You need to realize that the universe does not revolve around you.” Kolivan turned to look at Vrek, his gaze turning downwards to see that Vrek’s arm was still hovering in front of Keith, “And you, Vrek... you need to realize that your universe should not revolve around him.”

Vrek pushed love and caring thoughts through their bond, and flooded Keith’s mind with the reassurance that he would always be by his side. Kolivan’s words were lost on Vrek as Vrek vowed that he would burn the whole universe if it meant sparing Keith from a single moment of heartache. 

“You two are dismissed.” Kolivan’s words were final and brokered no room for any further discussion.

Both Blades hung their heads in shame on the trek back to their room. They dared not look any other Blade in the eye when they marched solemnly down the base’s corridors; it could have been any one of them that were stationed inside that Galra base, and it could have been any one of them that could have died due to their carelessness. 

It was indeed a sobering thought.

\---

Their new shared room was in a different sector of the Marmora base, amongst the very limited number of other bonded pairs that were in the Blade of Marmora. 

To say that their new room was larger than their older rooms was… generous. The bonded mate’s new accommodations only housed an additional few meters of space to compensate for the addition of two people’s personal effects, but the size of actual living space was nearly indistinguishable. Bedding was now only an inlaid circular nest that was embedded into the floor, large enough to accommodate two large-sized Galra and providing ample room for both Vrek and Keith’s comparatively diminutive figures. 

Upon returning to their room, they both afforded themselves the luxury of a vibration shower, before deciding whatever remained of the day would be spent in their nest together.

When Vrek exited the shower, he found Keith laying in the nest, dressed down in only his underwear, with his back pressed up against the edge of the nest in a manner that couldn’t possibly be conducive for his human spine. Keith was curled in on himself, trying to shut out the world beyond the nest. Vrek didn’t dare interrupt his mate’s moping, instead, laying himself perpendicular to Keith and resting his head against Keith’s stomach. 

Keith reached down to run his fingers through Vrek’s short hair, his slender fingers massaging his way between Vrek’s fluffy, pointed ears. Vrek let out a soft purring noise, his eyes half closed as his mate excised any form of stress and tension that lingered in his body. Keith could feel how content his mate was through their bond, and Vrek’s happiness reverberated throughout Keith’s entire being as if nothing in the entire Universe could’ve been wrong. _Vrek?_ Keith nudged his mate as gently as he could through their bond, not wanting to rouse Vrek from his relaxation. 

“Yes, darling?” Vrek answered, his eyes already closed and his breathing already beginning to slow. 

“Tomorrow… can we… you know… hit things?”

Vrek snorted through his nose, a quiet noise in lieu of the laughter that would’ve surely erupted from him had he been more alert. He knew that Keith had a tendency to get antsy, and that Keith’s own coping mechanism for dealing with every type of emotion was to take out his frustrations in lengthy sparring sessions. “Of course we can, dearest.”

Keith’s own fears ebbed away by the reassuring presence of his mate- both Blades let the exhaustion from their mission take its toll, and allow them both to drift peacefully to sleep.

\---

The base was running out of training bots, as durable as they were, they were no match for the bonded pair in combat. 

Not too long ago -during bond training- the two were paralyzed with fear at the mere thought of entering combat together: their thoughts too preoccupied with whether or not their mate was in danger. The first few training sessions resulted in many black-eyes, cut lips, and sprains derived entirely from a moment’s hesitation, with either one of the pair taking their eyes off of their opponent to visually check on the other. Antok had chided them both, with every inquiry as to their mate’s well-being ending with a swift smack. 

However, Antok’s strategy was flawed. Antok’s bond-training was entirely focused on getting the two mates to operate independently once again, effectively blocking out their connection with one another to focus on their own engagement. They needed to be able to work without one another in the event that their mission had called for it, but that didn’t mean that while they _were_ together, that they couldn’t focus on each other. Their separation training proved helpful in the day to day grinds of having to be apart from one another, but they would never be as effective alone as they would be together. 

That first day of training had resulted in a fluke of a test, with Vrek once calling out an attack coming towards Keith before Keith could even register it. They both took that concept and ran with it. Instead of separating and focusing on their own individual struggles, they grouped closer together to take on every enemy simultaneously. Instead of trying to work as two people, they worked as a single unit. It worked, and they got better and better. 

By the end of the second movement, their reaction time while in combat had improved substantially, and while their individual performance was approaching that of what it once was before they had bonded, their actions together were beginning to take the form of something truly special. 

By the end of the third movement, they had perfected their combat style. Now, they stood as close to each other as would be physically possible, with one of them always keeping a hand on the other to reinforce that spatial awareness. And while they had both gotten to the point of being _able_ to operate independently from one another, neither of them would want to. 

Antok was both extremely frustrated and extremely pleased with the bonded pair’s results. On one hand: they had completely subverted his entire training regiment and learned to disobey nearly every rule that was taught to him during his bond training with Kolivan. On the other, the two had developed an entirely new method of combat that worked with their bond and not in spite of it. If Antok tried to split them apart, they crowded closer together. If Antok tried to attack one of them, the other was already in his blindside making a move. It hadn’t taken very long before Antok had realized that no matter what he tried, he could not defeat the pair of them in battle. 

Now, whenever Keith and Vrek headed in the direction of the sparring rooms, a small crowd of Blades would follow the pair to gawk at the elegance of their movements. Blades both young and experienced alike crowded the wall towards the entrance of the training room, backs pressed up against the wall to give the pair the widest berth possible. 

Today, it was twelve bots against the two Blades, odds that no other Blade dare take, regardless of experience. Alone, each of them would’ve confidently take on three or four on at a time; still a highly competent and respectable enough battle. But together, it wouldn’t even have been a challenge. 

Keith stood in front of Vrek, feet well-distanced apart, blade in hand, and both arms raised in a ready position. Vrek stood slightly behind Keith, knees bent enough to make the two comparable in size, holding his own knife in his right hand while bringing his left hand to rest upon Keith’s right shoulder. 

There was a stillness to the room as the training bots stood in a clean circle around them; the air of the room was woven tight with the pure electricity of the carnage that was about to erupt. The room was about to explode, and their small crowd of on-lookers were waiting with bated breath to see who made the first move. 

Two of the bots moved in towards them, one from the front and one from their left flank. Keith’s eyes darted towards the enemy approaching from his blind spot and a reaction was immediately formed in the bond mates heads. The worry that Keith pressed out against their bond was met by a flash of acknowledgement from Vrek, a low, almost sunset-like color replaced Keith’s worry as Vrek soothed whatever fears Keith might have had.

The movement was precise, with Keith swapping his own knife from his right hand to his left, and while maintaining his center of gravity, he outstretched his left arm and stabbed the attacker through one side of it’s exposed throat: a first strike, but not a finishing blow for a machine. Vrek broke his stance and dropped into a low crouch, his hand trailing down from Keith’s shoulder to glide down his torso before coming to a rest on his shin. When the bot approaching them from the front took a step closer, Vrek lunged his knife through it’s thigh, putting all of his forward momentum into lifting the bot up off the ground until he was standing and the bot was sailing through the air. In the split-second of weightlessness before the bot started plummeting back down to the floor, Keith brought his blade down through the chest and followed the movement to the ground. Keith locked his leg around Vrek’s calf, maintaining contact with his mate as Vrek finished off the bot that Keith had first struck. Vrek’s own compact luxite blade extended into a heavy machete at the apex of his strike, tearing through the undamaged side of the bot’s exposed throat, completing the blow that his mate had started and sending the now decapitated head of the bot soaring through the air. The entire operation to dispatch their first two attackers had taken less than 3 seconds to complete. 

Keith and Vrek’s calculated maneuver had ended their actions already in a new ready stance, with Keith crouched low around Vrek’s leg and Vrek’s stance now balanced and waiting. Vrek placed both hands on the hilt of his machete and crossed his arm over himself in a hanmi position, his blade pointed at the next attacker. The two of them were ready once again: Alpha and Omega prepared for battle together. 

Murmurs of appraisal drifted through their crowd of spectators, and if the pair of blades had been listening, they might have been able to hear Regris grumble “I blinked, what happened-?”

The rest of the encounter played out with the same methodical movements, Keith side-stepping Vrek’s swing just in time to cover him while he was attacking. The two completed each other’s movements as well as they completed each other’s thoughts. They alternated blows: one of them would stagger an opponent, and the other would finish them off, the exception being when the two blades would both deliver a fatal blow to a singular opponent in one fell swoop. They would twist and turn with each other, and on more than one occasion, they would hand off each other’s own weapon: with Keith now using the heavy machete of his mate to cleave in to the neck of an opponent while Vrek used the curved angle of Keith’s blade to shear a clean cut straight through the chest of another. The two swapped their weapons back to one another in the same movement, the motion happening so quickly that spectators would later debate whether it had happened at all. 

Moving in perfect synchronicity, they moved together as if they were dancing. The bond mates were so attuned to each other’s presence that the harmony that they shared could only be described as a thing of beauty. 

When they were down to their final opponent, they broke from each other’s sides, with Keith tumbling forward in a roll that allowed him to evade the bot’s upward strike and slice at the back of it’s knees. By the time that last bot had begun to stagger forward, Vrek was already behind it, thrusting his blade through its back, with the front of his machete protruding through its chest. 

Vrek held his hand out to help pull his mate to his feet. 

“This is getting too easy,” Keith offered.

“Perhaps 20 on 2 would be more appropriate next?” Vrek supplied in the usual playful tone he had with his mate. 

“Perhaps-” a loud voice came from across the room, parting the crowd of spectators as Antok closed the distance between them. “- you can stop destroying all of our training bots yet again. We still haven’t fully repaired the last batch you destroyed and there are others here in more dire need of the practice.”

It wasn’t so much a lecture as it was more a compliment towards the pair’s astounding performance. Both Keith and Vrek felt a swell of pride surge through them as they knew that they had achieved more together than they ever possibly could have alone. 

“Maybe…” Antok turned back to the crowd of viewers that was still standing at the doorway to the training room. “- some of our braver members would offer themselves up as worthy challengers. Perhaps they could prove to be more of a threat than our training bots could.”

Antok’s suggestion was met with a stunning lack of responses as the onlookers surveyed the damage that Keith and Vrek had caused. Someone had even coughed as if to exaggerate the inherent absence of volunteers. Both bond mates stood amongst a graveyard of training bots as a monument to their brutality. Sparks flew up from their defeated opponents and oil bled over the clean floor: it had been a massacre. If their opponents had been living, they would now surely have been very, _very_ dead. 

Antok scoffed at the crowd, “Cowards, the lot of you. You know I could just _order_ some of you do it.”

People immediately began filing out of the room.

Antok turned back to the pair, “In any case. I was somewhat serious about our training bots. Take it easy. We only have so many of them and you both tend to leave them in a state where they are otherwise…” One of the fallen machines started to smoke on the floor, and everyone’s gaze drifted down to the small fire that was starting to burn out of it’s decapitated head. 

“... Irreparable.” Antok finished.

Vrek shrugged: a gesture he had surely taken from his mate, as the attitude oozing out of the rise of his shoulders was surely emanating from his Omega. _He does have a point, my love._

\---

They had decided -for the safety of the Blades on the base and to ease the heartache of all the mechanics that were frantically trying to repair destroyed training bots- that it might be best to spar with one another. 

Those next few training sessions were awkward. 

Sparring against each other had been entirely different from sparring _with_ one another. Keith was no stranger to sparring against his friends in playful combat, and he typically would have sparred against Lance in the Castle of Lions back when he was a Paladin. But having to attack your bond mate was… difficult. 

Both Vrek and Keith immediately came to the conclusion to leave their luxite blades out of the equation. Their knives were an extension of themselves, and while they were both highly skilled in the use of their blades, neither of them could fathom the pain that would be caused by even accidentally injuring their partner. So armed combat was out of the question. Hand-to-hand it was. 

In the first session, punches were pulled, and not a single hit landed on either of the pair. Before any strike could come close to connecting, they pulled away. The excitement and thrill of danger now gone, the spectators that their sparring sessions had typically attracted shrank somewhat significantly in these first few sessions. 

Unable to throw punches at one another, they decided to grapple instead.

They started on the floor, both trying to pin the other down as they jumped and scrambled and fell on top of each other. It never took long before their movements on the floor started to seem less like sparring to begin to resemble something else entirely. Surely, their sparring sessions always started with the intention of being innocent enough, but once the sweat started to drip off of them, and the room was bathed in the musky smell of their scents, there was no denying that what they were doing didn’t seem like the most appropriate means of combat.

This would open up a whole new realm of possibilities for attacks as the two of them would use such intimacy and proximity against one another. If ever Vrek had the upper hand against him, Keith would let a soft whine escape from his throat and, coupled with the subtle arch of his back- would leave Vrek paralyzed by his arousal for just long enough for Keith to turn the tables on him. Likewise, if Vrek ever got Keith pinned down to the floor, he could stop Keith’s struggling by pressing his hips against Keith’s and lowly growling in his ear. 

Then the spectators returned. Not the same crowd of people, mind you. A lot of the older blades that had observed them purely in admiration of their fighting skills had taken but a single look at their grabbing and grinding of each other and had left the room with the decency to avert their eyes from the clearly romantic display. At the same time, lots of younger blades (mostly all Alphas) had started showing up to “appreciate” the show that Vrek and Keith were putting on. Regris lingered at their sessions far longer than anyone else, and even Ganda -one of the alphas that had initially propositioned to help Keith throughout his first heat- had a penchant for dropping everything that she was doing so that she could observe the pair’s sessions.

Vrek didn’t mind the attention that the two of them were receiving, if anything- it reinforced the claim that Keith was _his_ Omega, and while people could admire the beauty of his charge from afar, that Vrek was his Alpha and that Keith belonged to him. It also wouldn’t entirely be remiss to say that not only did Vrek find the attention thrilling, but that he did find take a certain amount of satisfaction that such an amazing creature as Keith had chosen him to be his Alpha, and he liked rubbing it in the faces of all the other Alphas on base. That went double for Ganda, and for all the other Alphas that had propositioned themselves to Keith in the past.

Keith would have been embarrassed at the eyes that were glued to his lithe movements, if he at all had the presence of mind to notice them. By the time Keith and Vrek had started to get into it, Keith was almost entirely consumed by both his instinct to fight as well as the overwhelming presence of his mate. The adrenaline of the action coupled with the intoxicating scent of his Alpha’s heavy, sweat-laden scent created a drug that Keith was all too quick to succumb to. Nothing else in the world mattered.

Today, Kolivan wandered in to see what the gathering crowd was so enthralled with, to his own absolute horror. Seeing his two blades practically fucking through their clothing with a heavy set of spectators in the middle of the training room floor was too much for him to handle. The atmosphere in the small training room was palpable, as the combined Alpha/Omega scent that Keith and Vrek were practically drowning in was coupled by the heavy breathing of some very obviously aroused Alpha spectators. He ordered everyone out of the room and demanded that the pair stop… whatever it was they were doing and to return to their quarters immediately. The crowd of eager onlookers grumbled, but obeyed their leader nonetheless; Keith, on the other hand, was so high off of his Alpha’s scent that he didn’t even register Kolivan’s presence, making Vrek use his commanding Alpha voice to get Keith up and back to their room. 

  


\--- 

Both blades were curled up in their nest after having been sent out of the sparring room by Kolivan. Their leader’s facade of the stoic and emotionless superior officer was shattered upon seeing Vrek pinning Keith to the floor of the training room, with his knees spreading Keith’s legs apart at an utterly obscene angle. Vrek prayed to his ancestors that Kolivan hadn’t heard him growling something about Keith being a _‘good omega’_ into his mate’s ear before he had made his presence known, not necessarily for his own sake- but for the sake of Keith ever being able to look Kolivan in the eyes again. But Kolivan was very right to have broken the pair up, the two of them could have very easily forced each other into an early rut and heat if they had continued their incessant grinding and pinning. Audience be damned, all it would’ve taken would’ve been a single nip for Vrek to have stripped his Omega on the floor and turn their sparring session into something much more carnal. 

In the here and now, laying beside his mate in their nest, something was tugging at the back of Vrek’s mind. It wasn’t Keith, well- it wasn’t Keith’s thoughts this time, but it was _about_ Keith. He just couldn’t quite put his finger on _why_ it was about Keith. His own anxiety lingered in the back of his mind, a question that wouldn’t quite go away.

He emptied his mind of all concern so that he could allow his mate to drift off to sleep in a worriless slumber, unbothered by the questions that were currently lingering in Vrek’s mind. He couldn’t hide his anxiousness from his mate entirely, but he reduced its presence to be that of a single drop of ink within a bucket of water, something small and minute enough to not scream in Keith’s consciousness. 

Once Vrek was sure that his mate had fallen asleep, he excused himself, sliding carefully out of their nest and dressing himself. He turned back to his mate, and brushed some of his long black hair out of his face before placing the most delicate of kisses along his temple. Taking one last moment to admire the breathtaking beauty of his bond mate curled up in their nest, Vrek slipped out of their room with all the poise you might expect from a lethal spy. 

\---

The orders to retire to their quarters had come in the early evening, before what most Galra would consider ‘dinner time’, so the base was still rife with activity as Vrek let both his mind and his feet take him wherever they needed to. 

Before he had quite realized where he had gone, he found himself in the doorway to medical. The familiar scents of his former work-station flooded back into his mind, bringing forth an almost nostalgic feeling. Surely, it hadn’t been so much as a phoeb since he was last here but, somehow that all felt as if it was a lifetime ago. So many memories rooted themselves in this small little ward, both positive and negative. The clean sterility of the tables and beds throughout the room betrayed some of the horrible memories he’s had in his time as a medic: dying blades that he failed to resuscitate, comrades choking on their own blood from wounds they had received, and in his earliest days as a Blade- sitting in the corner, covered in blood, wishing more than anything that he could just go home so he wouldn’t have to deal with the constant barrage of death. 

Vrek looked down at his hands. It was hard being a medic and seeing your hands as anything other than blood-soaked. He’d felt so many lives slip out of his grasp on the beds of some of these operating tables, and he’d carried the burden of failing those blades with him every day he lived. At more than one point in his life he had thought about leaving the Blades. There was a life he could return to, his parents, and a bright future once waiting for him.

His heart bore a heavy burden, and yet, all that suffering had led his mate towards him. Standing here in the doorway, he could vividly picture himself in Keith’s shoes- too awkward to come in and talk about his upcoming heat cycle. As he took a few steps into the room, he turned to look back towards the doorway, and recalled the first time that Keith had made him laugh. If he dug deeper through the recesses of his mind he could barely make out the memory of his rut-addled bonding with Keith in that very doorway; while the image of the moment that they bonded was clouded in a haze of hormones -too thick for Vrek to recall the look on Keith’s face- Vrek could vividly remember the metallic tinges of red blood filling his mouth, and the soothing presence of his omega held safe in his embrace. 

All that he had endured had been well worth it. 

“Vrek? Vrek?” Ulaz’s voice snapped him back into the reality of the moment. Vrek wasn’t sure how long he had been lingering in the doorway, staring out into nothingness.

“My apologies, Ulaz. I was…” Vrek searched in his mind for any possible explanation he could muster. “... someplace else.”

“Clearly. Are you injured?” Ulaz could clearly see that Vrek wasn’t bleeding or in any sort of physical pain, but it was common courtesy to ask. 

“No. I was just… a bit lost in thought.” Vrek supplied. 

Ulaz raised a brow at him and stopped organizing the contents of whatever was currently preoccupying his duties as head-medic. He gave Vrek his undivided attention, “Your mind was lost and so your body carried you to a place that it was familiar with. Tell me what’s bothering you.”

Vrek was a little surprised at the kindness that Ulaz was offering him. After having bitten and bonded with his mate- the _one_ thing that Ulaz had specifically told him not to do, Vrek was certain that his mentor had lost any form of respect that he might have once held for him. Ulaz and Vrek had been close- as close as a teacher and their protege could be, with Vrek once having been groomed to take over as head-medic should anything have happened to Ulaz; but following such a flagrant disregard of medical and blades procedures and bonding while in rut, Ulaz had taken Vrek off of the Medical Bay rotation entirely. With Vrek no longer being assigned to medical, all of his former responsibilities were divided amongst his cohorts: Danit, Keenwar, and Segrani. While his classification as a blade hadn’t formally been altered from “Medic” to “Operative”, Vrek assumed that such an official title change was a mere matter of time. Vrek knew how much he had disappointed Ulaz, and he hoped that one day he might be able to prove himself worthy once again.

Vrek couldn’t quite put his feelings into words, “Well… I feel like there is something I’m missing. Something that I’m forgetting. Something with Keith, and I can’t quite identify what the problem is.”

Ulaz considered his words but offered none of his own, instead, making a small waving gesture with his hand that encouraged Vrek to elaborate.

“I... I’m not sure.” Vrek reached one of his hands up to scratch the back of his neck. “I’ve barely left his side in the last phoeb and yet it feels like I haven’t been there enough for him...?”

Ulaz nodded in acknowledgement, offering Vrek some direction to his thoughts, “You bonded. Then spent the next few movements in bond-training. Immediately following bond training, you were proving that you could operate effectively on-mission. You may have been together all that time, but when was the last time you weren’t doing something in service of the Blades?”

Vrek’s ears perked up a bit. Of course the answer had seemed so simple to Ulaz. 

“Keith called it a ‘Honeymoon period’ once.” Vrek stated. The realization dawned on him that while he had been beside his mate this entire time, they hadn’t taken time out for themselves. 

Ulaz nodded in agreement, returning to whatever task Vrek had interrupted with his intrusion. Just like that, Vrek had an answer. Taking his leave, Vrek was almost out the door when Ulaz called after him, “Oh, and one more thing. Let me know when you plan on being back. Segrani cannot properly organize antibiotics and if Danit incorrectly enters another genome into the molecular re-configurer I will have to demote him.”

Vrek stopped in his tracks, turning back to face Ulaz with a look of utter shock. “Be back...? But I had thought that you might not want me here anymore.”

Ulaz looked back up at him, genuinely surprised at what Vrek was suggesting, “You think that because you disobeyed my orders and bonded with Keith that I wouldn’t trust you with any of your medical responsibilities?”

Vrek nodded a slow and dour nod, unable to say anything else in the fears that it might somehow convince Ulaz that he was in fact unfit to serve as the Marmora’s medic. 

“Vrek, you have a brilliant mind. And while your skills in trauma surgery do still require honing, your knowledge of the medical field far surpasses that of my own. I have no doubt that you will one day make a fine replacement for me. To deprive the Blades of such remarkable talent would be a disservice to the order I have sworn fealty to.” Ulaz made a gesture with his hand, as if he was brushing off any of Vrek’s thoughts that might have otherwise given him reason to doubt himself, “Besides, it is clear to everyone here that you are much happier now. While I may have had my reservations about you choosing a bond mate while in a rut, your alpha sensibilities clearly pointed you in the right direction. So as long as you can avoid copulating in front of a crowd in one of our training rooms, I see no reason to take punitive measures against you.”

Vrek flushed a deep indigo color at the final remark made by his superior, and was only able to muster a hurried, “Yes, sir”, before shuffling his way out of medical and back out into the hallway.

Not ten paces away from medical, the blush finally subsided from his face, Vrek pulled out his tablet and sent a message to Kolivan.

**[LEAVE REQUESTED. KOGANE, KEITH/ CYRIK, VREK]**

\---

Antok was sitting in Kolivan’s office, his legs draped up over another chair in a way that was very undignified coming from such a fastidious Galra such as himself.

Kolivan was slumped over his desk, eyes scanning the newest reports that he’d received marking the headway that the Voltron Coalition had made. His brow furrowed in concentration, Antok could feel a flurry of emotions that was bubbling within his mate as each report detailed headway in one area, all the while losing ground in another. Though this has been the most progress that the Blade’s have made in their ten-thousand year struggle with the Empire, coalition forces were stretched dangerously thin, their entire revolution felt like a proverbial house of cards, and that it could all come crumbling down at a moment’s notice. 

Kolivan’s tablet blipped with the notification of a new message. Antok snatched the tablet off of the corner of his desk and read the message in Kolivan’s stead. It was from Vrek. He scanned the message, appreciating Vrek’s brevity and hastily responding in such- 

**[APPROVED]**

-before setting the tablet back down on Kolivan’s desk. Antok silently mused that it had taken them enough time to finally request some down time for themselves. 

“Answering messages for me now, are we?” Kolivan didn’t bother looking up from his reports as he addressed his own bond mate. 

“You would’ve said yes, anyways.” Antok huffed, resting his head against the back of the chair. 

“You didn’t just commit me to buying another twenty-thousand packets of instant olfracta, did you...? I know I said it was a good price but we still need to prioritize-”

“It was the two love-sick kits. They’re finally taking their leave.” Antok interrupted. His mate had enough to worry about, and the budget constraints that the Blades constantly faced should not be at the forefront of his mind. 

“I see. For how long?” Kolivan inquired.

“They did not say, and I did not bother to ask. Regardless, they’ve worked hard, and they deserve a break.”

Kolivan muttered something under his breath that was only half interpretable as being along the lines of “- as long as they do it somewhere other than the floors of our training rooms…” 

Antok stood up, throwing his arms above his head to stretch out his muscles as best he could. 

“I read the report from our agent stationed in the former Weapons Manufacturing facility. The one that the two disabled?”

Kolivan sighed, looking up from his reports and shutting off his monitor to address his bond mate, “Yes. Our agent is safe, the failure was blamed on an electrical storm coupled with the constant rainfall, and the Galra are scrubbing their facility to relocate to a more hospitable environment. This should delay their operations for the better half of a decaphoeb.”

“And...?” Antok prodded, circling around Kolivan’s desk to lean down against his mate. Antok wrapped his arms around the front of Kolivan’s torso, curled his tail around Kolivan’s leg, and gently pressed his face against the back of Kolivan’s neck in a display of affection that only the two would ever be privy to. 

Rolling your eyes would be difficult without pupils, and yet somehow Kolivan managed to do it. 

“And-” He started through nearly clenched teeth. “- Coalition forces within that sector were expecting to be overrun by Galra reinforcements. Reinforcements that mysteriously never arrived following the moon outpost’s sabotage. Allowing for a successful evacuation to proceed with only nominal casualties.”

“You forget that Keith was once the leader of Voltron. He made the right call. And the two operated exceedingly well given how recent their bonding was. It took us three phoebs to get back in the field.” Antok nuzzled into the back of his mate’s neck, trying to ease Kolivan’s tension as best he could with a gentle scenting. 

Kolivan powered his monitor back up, continuing to read the reports of the day, “I sent them on that mission because it proved to have minimal risk of detection and a nearly non-existent mortality rate. They got lucky _this time_. Next time they might not be so fortunate."

“You can see that they would die for each other, can’t you-?” Antok stood, returning to his seat across from Kolivan.

“Clearly. And that’s what I am afraid of.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Artist Credit: @eeniiart on Twitter
> 
> Next up, Chapter 3: The Journey*


	3. The Journey*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vrek has some plans to make before the two bond mates can enjoy their time away from the Marmora Base.

Vrek had a plan.

Well…

Vrek had some ideas.

Well…

Vrek had a grasp on the concept.

Honestly, Vrek needed help. 

Admittedly, Vrek hadn’t done much in terms of courtship throughout his life. Surely, his ventures in medical school were wrought with some would-be prospects that had attempted to bed him- none of them successful. Unfortunately, Vrek was awful at figuring out when someone was flirting with him, and usually shot down such advances unwittingly. On one particular occasion, a very lovely beta had invited him up to her room for some ‘olfracta’ after the pair had gone on an unusually successful date. At the time, Vrek’s reply was that such amount of sugar was bad for his focus that late in the evening, and he would instead be returning to his room for an early night’s rest. It was only days later, in the middle of one of his virology lectures did Vrek realize that the beta was trying to invite him in to _sleep_ with her. Her embarrassment at such a rejection coupled with his sheer density had ensured that the two would never go on a second date. 

The base was still bustling with activity, so Vrek decided to wander in to the commissary, using the guise of dinner to seek some much welcome advice from his more romantically experienced Blade counterparts. 

Once there, he had noticed that the normal chatter that the Blades were enjoying up until that point had ceased, and only resumed in hushed tones as he crossed the room to ritually grab some vitamin drink and a plate of food goo. Apparently, the two newest bond mates and their proclivities had been the talk of the base. 

He sat at a mostly occupied table, settling himself into a seat next to Ilun and across from Regris. The two omegas greeted him with a warm welcome and spared him the indignity of addressing what had been going down between himself and his mate in the sparring rooms, even though they had been very, very well acquainted with it. 

A heavy hand slapped him across the back of the shoulders -no doubt aimed to be a playful and high-spirited gesture- but one that startled him nonetheless. It was Ganda, another alpha, and she settled down in the seat next to him and started talking in a rather boisterous tone that made Vrek much rather wish she hadn’t. 

“There you are! Finally able to free yourself from the hottest little Omega on base long enough to get a meal in you? Let me guess- he keeps you busy in the nest? He seems the type.” Ganda’s voice carried a little too much for Vrek’s comfort, and he could already feel the attention of the other Blades in the cafeteria drawn to their conversation.

“ _My_ mate is fine, Ganda. Thank you for asking,” he replied, placing a special emphasis to remind her that Keith had chosen _him_. 

“You’re a lucky one, Vrek. I’m sure any of the Alphas here would’ve gladly faced down Zarkon himself in unarmed combat if it had meant getting a piece of that Omega.”

Vrek could feel himself starting to flush indigo - but he didn’t think he would have blamed any of the Alphas that would have taken that gamble. Keith was more than worth it. He didn’t have a response to Ganda’s comment and he felt relieved when Ilun responded on his behalf. 

“Ganda, there’s not a Blade here worth their weight in ore that wouldn’t want to take on Zarkon in unarmed combat.” Ilun’s remarks were met with a chorus of agreements from the Blades sitting around them, but also mercifully meant to draw the focus of the conversation away from Vrek’s bedroom activities. 

Ganda was having none of it. “Yeeeeaaaaah, but- thanks to the two of you, we’ve all had some wonderful entertainment in the sparring room recently. Regris even suggested charging a hundred GAC per person for the privilege of standing in the room while you two sparred.” She met Regris’ gaze and gave him a teasing wink. 

Regris spit out his vitamin drink in a comically graceless display as he had hastily tried to recover some of his dignity. “That- that was before! I said that when we were all watching you both take on bots!”

Ganda rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. But _now-_ I bet we could charge at least a thousand GAC per person! We’d be rich!” Her laughter filled the room, but fizzled out into an uncomfortable silence upon realizing that no one else at their table was laughing. Both the omegas at the table could clearly tell that the mention of money had somehow made Vrek even more uncomfortable than he already was. 

Neither Regris or Ilun could meet his gaze. Vrek was beyond embarrassed, which was good- because that embarrassment was all that was stopping him from punching Ganda right now. To Vrek, she was still a threat, rational or not- she was a rival alpha that had once (and seemingly still did) lust after his omega, and despite being a fellow Blade and a comrade in arms, his alpha instincts told him to be wary of her. 

The Blades continued to eat their meals in relative quiet as the four didn’t quite feel like broaching any other topic of conversation, and they instead let the chatter and idle conversations from their comrades fill the void between them.

Vrek had lost his appetite, and had instead pushed the food goo on his plate around with his spork. After a few doboshes of trying to work up the confidence to pose his rather personal predicament as a question, he finally found the courage to speak up.

“So- Regris. What would you want to do on a date-?”  
  
Regris was mid-chew, his mouth filled with food goo as he seemed to freeze in place. His tail flicked back and forth in a rather visual display of discomfort; when he finally swallowed his food and stared at Vrek, open-mouthed and rather shocked. 

“Vrek. I’m flattered, and I know that the heat we shared together was quite special but... you’re _bonded_ now.”

 _Oh no_. This wasn’t the way Vrek had meant for this question to come across. He buried his face in his hands, his eyes unable to meet Regris’ as he tried to stammer out his explanation, “No, no. No- no- no- no. That’s not what I had- I _meant-_ where do you think I should take _Keith_. What would you want to do.”

Ilun kicked Regris’ shin underneath the table, huffing in complete resignation. “Idiot. Of course that’s what he meant. Just because every Alpha and Beta on base has helped you with a heat on one occasion or another, doesn’t mean you’re all that a hot-commodity.”

“Am too! You’re just jealous.” Regris grinned and flashed his fellow Omega his reptilian tongue in a juvenile gesture that you would only expect to ever see coming from the smallest of children.

Ganda was mulling over her own plate of food goo, placing her elbow on the table and resting her chin in the palm of her hand. It would be beneath the dignity of a Blade to say that one could possibly be pouting- but Ganda was pouting. “And here I was getting my hopes up that I could lay claim to Keith.”

Vrek’s response was immediate and wholly out of his control, as he turned to Ganda in what could only be described as a snarl from a feral animal and snapped, “ _MY_ OMEGA.”

The idle chit-chat filling the cafeteria stopped once more as the Blades all tensed around the sudden commotion. Vrek hadn’t realized that the palm of his hand was resting against the hilt of his sheathed knife, but the eyes of at least half a dozen of their compatriots were locked on to that knife- and if a single move was made for it, they would be ready to restrain their medic. 

Realizing that all the attention was focused on the mere inches that separated Vrek from Ganda, Ilun placed her hands on Vrek’s shoulders, trying to coax him back into his seat. “Easy Vrek, she didn’t mean it. We all know that Keith is yours.”

Vrek slowly raised his hands in a gesture of submission, shaking the sense back into his head as he placed his palms squarely on the table in front of him. He wasn’t a threat, and no one was in danger. Gradually, he regained his composure, and the rest of the Blades relaxed around him, and Ganda let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she had been holding.

“My apologies, Ganda. I know you did not mean such a comment. It is just… difficult for me- when it comes to such a topic. Would you do me the kindness of refraining from such unseemly remarks regarding my mate in the future?” Vrek’s voice was calm and measured, with no hint of the ferality that had consumed him mere moments ago.

Ganda could only nod. The message was clear enough.

“Anyways- back to the topic of conversation. I- I need to show Keith a good time, and I am in a desperate need of advice.” Vrek sighed in defeat.  
  
The three other Blades mulled it over.

“A swim.” It was Regris who piped up first. He looked back at Vrek and nodded at the thought of his own idea. “It’s been a long time since either of you had the luxury of a bath, right? Not a vibration shower, not a regular shower, but full submersion in some warm water.”

Vrek considered it. Regris was right, it had been a long time since either of them individually had ever had the luxury of a relaxing soak, and it was something they had not yet done together.

“Well... that would depend on your budget, and where you plan on heading.” Ilun was trying to help, and the inquiry had genuinely been to help serve Vrek’s benefit, but he still shivered with the irritation that this was another interrogation. Vrek was notoriously tight-lipped: none of the Blades here had known anything about his history before joining the order. He had never once offered any personal information about himself, and had frequently declined such inquiries from his colleagues in the past. He was their medic, he was a damn good medic, and that was all that anyone had needed to know.

The question hung in the air for longer than it should have, before Vrek made the decision to answer.

“Karrahe. The budget is irrelevant.”

Vrek’s response got a few wide-eyed looks from some of those around them. It was an unexpected response to be sure. Karrahe was a very important planet in the Galra Empire; one of the earliest conquests in the days of Zarkon’s expansion. Home to entirely full-blooded Galra, it was a wealthy planet that knew nothing of the horrors that their empire was committing. Beyond that, being a Blade didn’t pay well. The Blades were not terribly well-funded, and the allowances that they were given for leave would typically only be enough to stretch a few good meals and some meager accommodations. Since no one had ever seen Vrek take leave before, it could have been assumed that he had a decent amount of GAC owed as severance, but to hear Vrek say that the cost was _irrelevant_ was a shock.

To her credit, Ilun didn’t miss a beat. Vrek was sure that news of his destination or of his financial standing would start to circulate around the base. They were a tight-knit community, and that being the case, rumors tended to spread like wildfire. _At least it would get people to stop talking about our sparring sessions_ , he thought grimly. 

“Well- I’m afraid my knowledge of Karrahe lives and dies in its relics. There is quite a large museum there filled with the spoils of every planet that the empire has conquered: unique crystals from Balmera across the cosmos, trees from Olkarion, ancient fossils from Crydor.” Ilun sighed, bringing herself out of her repository of knowledge in order to readdress the question. “But I doubt that Keith has any interest in museums. I do hear that they have quite a lovely garden, though. That might be quite romantic.”

It was Ganda that actually spoke next. “Take him shopping. Get him some clothes. Get him some jewelry. Get him something nice. All he has other than our uniforms would be that obscene red jacket.”

Vrek knew his mate better than to think that Keith would allow himself to be pampered, but- perhaps Ganda was onto something. Maybe something small for his mate.

“I can forward you some good travel site recommendations,” Ilun continued, “When undercover, sometimes playing the part of a tourist can divert suspicions to make you seem innocuous enough. It helps to _know_ what the main tourist destinations are.”

The responses were all helpful, and now, Vrek at least knew where to begin. 

“Thank you, all of you, for your advice. I’ll… take it into consideration. Please excuse me.” Vrek turned to take his leave, discarding his entirely untouched plate of food goo, but taking his pouch of vitamin drink with him.

After Vrek had cleared the room, one of the Blades sitting clear across the cafeteria shouted out, “Ganda, you deserved that.”

“I was kidding! I didn’t think he would actually try to gut me! He always seemed so calm in the past.” Ganda’s embarrassment was clearly painted across her face. She knew that she’d been edging towards the line of indiscretion ever since Keith had gone into heat- but clearly she had just crossed it, and such a transgression was not tolerable.

Another more experienced Blade sitting a few tables down also offered his words of advice, “Don’t get between an Alpha and their Omega. Any other newly bonded Alpha wouldn’t have shown as much restraint as he did.”

Regris leaned across the table, over their plates of food goo to speak in a hushed tone to Ilun.

“We did good, didn’t we?”

Ilun raised her brow at Regris, “You said the only thing your amphibian mind could conjure, and I gave a suggestion that we all know Keith would not approve of, I fail to see how our advice to Vrek even approaches ‘good’.”

Regris sat back in his seat but maintained his whisper, “No, not that. I meant getting Vrek and Keith together. We both recommended him to Keith, and they’re a good match for each other. Besides, Vrek’s little displays of possessiveness are really hot.”

“And totally expected from how I’ve helped handle his ruts in the past. If I’m being honest, though- now that he’s bonded, I regret that he never helped me through one of my heats.”

“Oh, well,” Regris’ smile crept up into something that would not have resembled anything within the realm of innocence, “he was attentive. Keith is a lucky omega.”

“You’re just thankful that Keith isn’t moping around your room anymore.”

\---

Vrek returned to their room, disrobed, and climbed down into the nest with his mate. Keith grumbled under his breath as Vrek readjusted his mate’s position so that he could pull the smaller boy’s frame flush to his own body. Vrek scented his mate, cooing him back into a deep sleep as he whispered sweet nothings into his darling’s ear, and before long he too had drifted off to sleep.

\---

Vrek still woke before his mate, and he didn’t know whether that was because humans needed significantly more sleep than Galra, or if Keith in particular just needed the rest. Regardless, he did not disturb his slumber.

Keith's face was resting against Vrek’s chest, making him very conscientious about the breaths he took so as to not rouse his mate from his sleep. With Keith’s resting form limiting his movements and effectively pinning him down in their nest, Vrek reached out with a free arm and grabbed his tablet in order to do some light reading in the time he had before the two would have to be up and about.

He searched through all the databases he could access, searching through local Karrahe tour guide sites, trying to find ideas of what he could do while the two were able to act like just another normal, recently-bonded couple. He also searched for “Honeymoon”, pulling up hundreds of results for a sugar-densed surface of a celestial satellite whose moniker was that of “The Honeyed Moon”- because _of course_ it was. He refined his search to that of “Human Honeymoon” and was met with zero results. Vrek sighed, trying not to let his agitation bleed through their bond, but it was too late. 

As Keith started to regain consciousness, he went through his morning ritual that Vrek had grown very fond of. First, Keith would let out a big huff- as if he had only been inhaling for the past few vargas, and was finally able to let out all his breath in the form of one long, angsty exhale. Next, he would clench his fists and stretch his legs out as best he could. Long legs Keith had, Vrek sometimes thought they went on forever, elegant and graceful and yet still so strong. Then after yawning and stretching, came Vrek’s favourite part, when Keith would turn and bury his nose against whatever part of his mate he was closest to- taking in one more sleepy whiff of his alpha’s scent, Vrek’s fingers carding through hair like spilled purple ink, before finally opening his beautiful indigo eyes to greet the new day.  
  
Vrek could feel his mate begin to wake, feeling the flicker of a sunrise finally start to peak over the vast horizon. Warmth started to fill his body from head to toe as if he were being drenched by the glow of the desert mornings that Keith had been raised on. Hiding his browsing, Vrek quickly switched back to a program of a show that he had been watching in order to mask his plans from his mate.

“Here comes.... Shiro: The Hero!” Keith would recognize Coran’s voice anywhere. But he hadn’t expected it to come out of the speaker’s of his partner’s tablet. Finally opening his eyes (having completed his morning routine), Keith turned his head on his mate’s furred torso just in time to see a barely choreographed fight take place between the paladins of Voltron, and some actor way too small to be Zarkon.

“The Voltron Show-? Seriously? I thought you had class.” He turned his face back into Vrek’s chest, he needed another whiff of his mate if he was going to have to deal with this level of ‘entertainment’. He could feel the rumble of laughter in Vrek’s chest as he chuckled at his grumpiness. 

“What? Is it not reason enough to think that their Red Paladin is attractive?”

“Ugh. _Allura_ ? Are you saying that she makes a better _me_ than _me_?” Keith emphasized his question with a jab between his mate’s ribs. “There has _got_ to be a better reason than that. Besides, the show gets them all wrong. None of them act like this.”

“Then what are they like?”  
  
Keith considered the question, thinking long and hard about how he would describe his former companions. “Pidge is smart, yes- but she doesn’t flaunt her intelligence as the sole thing she can offer to the team. She can just as easily knock you on your ass as she can disable a Galra firewall. Hunk isn’t a joke: he’s kind, and he takes the fight with the Galra personally. He isn’t a fighter- but he fights because it’s what has to be done. And Lance-” Keith scoffed before he continued, “- Lance would very much like to think that he’s _loverboy Lance_ , but in the entire time I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him actually date anyone. He means well, though.”

“Strange that the portrayals of the paladins would be so off when Princess Allura seems to capture your brooding perfectly.” Vrek teased his mate.

“I _do not_ brood!” The offense that Keith took was partially in jest but also partially not.

“Of course, my love. Whatever you say,” the sarcasm dripping in Vrek’s voice was heavy, but Keith let it slide nonetheless. “So what is the real princess Allura like-?”  
  
Keith grimaced, recalling Allura’s reaction when she had learned of Keith’s Galra parentage. “Allura is… wise. She’s noble. But sometimes this entitles her into thinking that she has a right to lecture you. She also… she hates the Galra.”

“Many do. I can’t blame her for that.” Vrek’s grip tightened on his mate for just a moment, not necessarily for Keith’s sake, but for his own. Vrek knew that wherever he would go outside of the Galra core worlds, that he would be hated, despised, and even feared. Perhaps this would change if the Blade of Marmora played a crucial role in bringing down the empire. Perhaps not. Vrek was resigned to that hatred. His people had done terrible things, and too many of them were complicit in their silence.

“Shiro-” Keith was about to start listing how Shiro’s qualities were far above what mere words could describe, but he stopped himself. Keith could feel Vrek’s own apprehension at what Keith could’ve possibly said, as his anxiety felt like a pool of quicksand, threatening to drag all of their happiness down into his own self-doubt that Keith had chosen the wrong mate, and that he truly belonged with Shiro. 

Vrek had seen Keith’s trials and he was no fool, he knew how much Shiro meant to Keith, and despite all of Keith’s reassurances and kind words of love, he knew that a piece of Keith’s heart would always be inaccessible to him: because it belonged to Shiro. He knew that he would have to come to terms with this eventually, and while he knew how much his mate loved him, the mere idea that Keith would come to regret bonding with him stung too much to want to ponder. The Black Paladin was a lot to measure up to, and there was nothing that Vrek could offer that could possibly compare to that type of pedigree. 

Instead of dwelling on words not said or paths not taken, Keith quickly wrapped up his summary with, “Yeah- Shiro the hero. That one is accurate.”

“I would very much like to meet your friends one day.”

Keith thought about that a lot. First, he thought about the reaction that that would cause, and how his friends would respond to hearing that he had a bond mate. After, of course, he had explained to them what a bond mate was. But surely they would all come to accept Vrek- and yes, that would even include Allura. 

Vrek set the tablet down, allowing the video to continue to play as he carded his claws through Keith’s hair, petting his mate in all the ways he knew he liked, feeling the reassuring pressure through their bond as if the two had both been wrapped in a heavy blanket. 

“Why did you leave Voltron?”

Keith’s reaction to the question was so intense that Vrek had wished he could’ve taken the words back while they still hung in the air. The warm glow of a presence that Vrek was feeling through their bond was frozen over by the chilling ice of an arctic tundra. Keith stilled in his arms, his brain racking itself for words it couldn’t quite find. 

“I- there were a few reasons. Allura told me that Voltron was a symbol, a symbol of hope for worlds that never thought that they could be liberated from the Empire. I couldn’t do that. All the appearances, all the shows... I felt… it felt like a waste. There was more important work to be done and I didn’t want to be paraded around like a celebrity when I could’ve been _fighting._ ”

Vrek could tell that there was something else, some other reason that was lingering in the back of his mate’s mind, a nagging feeling like a stain that couldn’t be scrubbed away- or a small light that couldn’t be extinguished.

“And..?” Vrek prodded. 

“And... I wasn’t the leader that the team needed. Shiro was back. Shiro could lead the team better than I ever could. With me gone, Voltron could operate far better than it ever could have if I had stayed.”

Vrek couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Did his mate actually think that he wasn’t good enough..?  
  
“Keith…” Vrek squeezed his mate, letting him feel safe and vulnerable in his arms. “You have accomplished such impossible things. You traveled further than any one of your species ever has before. You’ve fought the Galra- you’ve fought Zarkon, and won. Do not demean yourself into thinking that there isn’t a single thing that you cannot accomplish. I would follow your lead to the darkest corners of the universe.”

“That’s the thing, Vrek. I wouldn’t _want_ to lead you there. I wouldn’t want to lead _anyone_ there. Shiro can keep them together. Shiro is level-headed. Shiro can keep them in the light. I’d… I’d have gotten us lost in the dark.”

“Do... do you think you’d ever go back?” Vrek’s question hid another question in it, a more important question. _Would you ever leave the Blades? Would you ever leave me?_

Keith sighed, taking his mate’s grasp off of his head and pulling Vrek’s hand against his chest so that he could feel the gentle thumping of his heartbeat. “Vrek… I don’t know where this war is going to take us. But I know that it’ll always lead me back to you.”

Vrek pressed his nose against the top of Keith’s head, inhaling as much of his scent as he could. “Keith, there is nothing in the universe that could keep me from you. I promise.”

Keith wasn’t one for grand gestures. Too much of his life had been wasted on broken promises for him to put much stock in the romanticism of what the future might hold. But here, in the nest with his mate, reassured by the warming blanket of love bleeding through their bond... Keith would allow himself to believe Vrek.

The two mates laid in each other's arms, basking in the calming presence of their togetherness.

“It’s for the audience.” Vrek finally stated, breaking their silence.

“What is?”

“I suffer through all of this… abysmal acting… to see the audience. Their reactions. Our work as Blades goes unacknowledged. Our most successful operations end with our presence having gone completely unnoticed. These people… they never get to know about our struggle against the empire. We would never get to experience the happiness that it brings them to see the Galra flag fall. All I can see- all I can ever see- are the wounded, the bleeding, and the dying. I don’t ever get to see the celebration that accompanies such a victory. Seeing your friends bring these people hope is why I watch this show.” Vrek pressed his lips against the back of Keith’s head in another soft kiss. 

As if to echo his own sentiment, the chorus of cheers drowned out all the sound-effects that were happening during the performance- to only be followed by Coran’s narration enthusiastically hollering out “... and Zarkon is defeated!”

\---

They had eaten their breakfast in the cafeteria. No one else sat at their table, and while they didn’t see Regris or Ilun, they did see Ganda- who only met Vrek’s gaze for a second before she redirected her intense interest towards the floor before almost running out of the cafeteria.

“What was that about?” Keith jerked his spork in the direction of the retreating alpha.

Vrek’s only response was to smile and say, “She’s probably just feeling shy.”

Once Keith had finished with his breakfast, Vrek had excitedly dragged him down to the requisitions office instead of back to their room. Their last trip to the requisitions office had been to (begrudgingly) return the only set of string lights that the base had, once they had moved all of Vrek’s belongings out of his room and into their shared quarters. Keith might have assumed that Vrek’s giddiness was to tell him that the base had gotten more string lights, but instead, his mate had something different in mind. 

When they had approached the requisitions desk, Keith once again recognized the Blade that was manning the post, eyes glued to the tablet that was playing the most recent episode of ‘Empire’s Dancingest Champions’. This time, Lastor actually noticed the Blade’s approach, and reflexively shut his tablet and stood up from the desk.

“Well, well. If it isn’t my favorite two patrons. How can I help you today?” Lastor inquired. 

Keith legitimately did not have the faintest of ideas why they were here, and instead just looked at his mate expectantly as if to second the question, _well, why are we here?_

Vrek didn’t even glance at Keith as he spoke to Lastor, “This one needs at least five days of infiltration clothing. Inconspicuous attire meant for usage on Galra core planets. All the smallest sizes available, of course.”

“Of course.” Lastor replied. 

Keith looked up at his mate quizzically. “Did we get new orders-? Where are we going-?”

“No, darling. _We_ are going on a vacation, and _you_ only have one change of clothes that isn’t your Marmora uniform. Now go pick some things out.”

\---

Once Keith had packed a bag full of clothes, they returned to their room for Vrek to grab a few more items. Keith noted that Vrek did not bother packing clothes, instead, only grabbing a few personal effects that could be kept within the pockets of the jacket his mate chose to don. 

They made their way down to the hangar bay of the base, where a transport and pilot were both waiting for them. Vrek and Keith piled into the small passenger compartment of the disguised cargo freighter that they were taking. Their Blade pilot, dressed down in civilian clothes so as to not attract attention, addressed them of their new protocol.

“I’m going to drop you off at the nearest transportation hub- nearly a varga away. We’ll supply you with the GAC to pay in person for the transport accommodations. Protocol dictates that you transfer at at least 5 major transit hubs before continuing to your final destination. Upon returning, make your way back to the station of origin, before using the Blades’ frequency to request pick up. Do I make myself clear?”

“Clear,” they answered together. 

\---

The initial station that they were left at could barely be considered a transport hub. It was dirty, it was dingy, and their boots stuck to the floor as if the entire surface of the station was coated in some sort of sticky adhesive. 

If Keith had expected something along the lines of an airport, what he had gotten was more accurately described as an intergalactic bus-stop.

They had paid with the GAC that the Blades provided them- nothing traceable, and had transferred from passenger ship, to cargo ship, back to passenger ship on their trek through different stations. The Blades had to be sure that they were not being followed, and if they were under surveillance, that their movements were erratic enough to not point to either where they were going, or where they had been.

On their fifth transfer, Keith was already starting to question whether or not he could handle the final leg of their journey. But Vrek had assured him that the final station that they were headed to was a nice one, and that once there- they would be able to book comfortable accommodations for the relatively brief trip that it took to get to their final destination. Vrek was still tight-lipped about where it was they were headed. 

The final ship that they had to suffer through could barely be described as being suitable for passengers. The seating area was a large cargo bay that had benches welded to the floor, with cargo pallets and crates of something stacked up to chest-level. If they had to guess, they would say that carrying passengers was merely a bonus gig to this ship’s cargo-hauling business. There were only about 2 dozen other passengers, and they were all spread out amongst the boxes and cases that littered the hull.  
  
The bonded pair chose to seat themselves in the back corner of the cargo bay, the safest place for spies to sit and observe as well as the most private place for the newly bonded pair to steal kisses from each other without being gawked at. 

The better part of their day had been wasted on travel alone, and by the time they were scheduled to actually arrive at their destination, it would have been a full day. Keith was tired, and so as Vrek laid back against the bulkhead of the ship, he suggested that Keith sit in his lap to help him fall asleep. Keith straddled his mate’s lap, wrapped his legs around Vrek’s torso, buried his head against the side of his neck, and drifted off to sleep before the transport had even taken off.

\---

Vrek could not sleep. Not that he wasn’t tired, he was, but that he couldn’t let his guard falter. He wasn’t sure if it was his alpha sensibilities that drove him to want to protect his mate, or if it was the fact that he was certain no small amount of questionable characters were also on their small freighter- merely waiting for the opportunity to rob them.

Regardless, he was awake.

It had been nearly a varga since they had departed the last station, and it would be nearly another varga before they would reach the final station that they would need to get to, so in the meantime, he waited, and he focused on the soft form that was resting against him and cradled in his welcoming embrace. He wondered if his mate was dreaming, and if he was, what he would be dreaming about. 

Vrek had a hand resting on the small of Keith’s back, and used his other hands to brush some of Keith’s hair out of his face and over his ear. Both Keith’s arms and legs were wrapped around him, he wasn’t going anywhere. If he had wanted to, Vrek could’ve used his free hands to grab his tablet, but not only did he not want to reveal such a valuable piece of tech amongst unscrupulous strangers, he also did not want to let go of his mate for even a single second. 

And so, Vrek sat there, and just admired the beauty of his bond mate. Vrek used his free hand to gingerly stroke one of his clawed fingers down his mate’s jaw, before running that claw down the side of Keith’s ribs. He was such a delicate creature, and yet he was so fierce. The ferocity that he had seen in Keith during his trials was only ever amplified in their nest together. Sure, Keith was the omega, but he demanded and stole his pleasure from Vrek as if the bedroom itself was yet another battleground for the two to engage in. Vrek focused on the legs that were wrapped around his waist, and recalled the times where he was buried in his mate, with his omega holding him in a vice-grip very much the same as this, all while begging for his knot. Vrek could feel the hardness that was poking against his stomach as-

Wait. 

Vrek shifted a little in his seat, confirming that, yes, his mate was rock hard against him. 

“Omega?” Vrek whispered, his voice not carrying beyond the two of them.  
  
Keith was indeed still asleep, and Vrek couldn’t discern whether or not this wave of arousal had spurred from his own psyche or from Keith’s. Vrek would’ve done his best to readjust his seating and left well enough alone, but there was a nagging thought in the back of his mind. All Vrek could think about was Keith’s first heat, when Keith’s sleeping form had then been grinding against his hips, desperately seeking relief. At the time, Vrek had resigned himself to allowing Keith to get off on his fingers- and seeing his omega in _that much_ pleasure _so close_ to him was a form of torture in of itself, as all of his instincts screaming at him to claim such a needy and willing omega. 

A cool shiver ran down Vrek’s spine as he recalled Keith’s words in the ensuing conversation: _You can fuck me in my sleep if you want. It’s fine. I trust you._

Vrek inspected his surroundings. A fair share of the passengers around them were also asleep. Their bag was on the seat beside them, blocking the view of their hips from any sidelong glances. A cargo pallet was in front of them, no one would be looking from there. If anyone had any reason to suspect anything, surely their coupling would be discovered at even the tiniest bit of scrutiny. He would just have to keep them both quiet. 

Reaching down between the two of them, Vrek grabbed the zipper on the hem of Keith’s pants. The pants that Keith had borrowed from the Marmora requisitions were meant to accommodate a species with a tail- meaning that the zipper on this particular pair of pants went all the way around. _Perfect_ , thought Vrek. He pulled slowly, to be sure that the hum of the zipper was nearly inaudible over the vibrations of the ship’s engines against the bulkhead. By the time Vrek had pulled the zipper far enough along to give him all the access he needed, he realized that his mate was absolutely dripping with slick. The smell of Keith’s arousal was heavy, and he had hoped that such a strong omega scent didn’t carry far enough to alert the other passengers.

The feeling of Keith’s slick dripping on the front of Vrek’s pants, coupled with the slow and achy grinding that Keith was now doing against his abdomen, was enough to drive an alpha crazy. But Vrek had to be subtle about this.  
  
Vrek pulled his own zipper down, just enough to fish himself out of his pants. He was hard and aching with need as the length of his cock throbbed with the desire to be plunged deep within the warm confines of his omega. Grasping his dick in one hand, Vrek quickly spread the slick that was leaking out of the bulbous glands of his cock enough to liberally coat his whole length; while he could _smell_ that Keith wouldn’t need any extra preparation, he wanted to be sure. His other hand still on the small of his mate’s back, Vrek carefully lifted Keith’s hips at just the right angle to press his cock into Keith’s needy folds. 

A sharp gasp started to escape from Keith, but the moment it began, Vrek pressed his mouth over that of his mate’s, stealing his breath away with a kiss. Before Keith could even register what was happening, his eyes rolled back into his head as his hips came to a rest against his mate’s: Vrek was already fully inside of him. 

Keith moaned into his mate’s mouth for only the briefest of moments before he stopped himself. Keith remembered where they were, and he pulled his mouth away from Vrek’s as if to ask him what he was doing. 

Keith’s panicked terror only served to tighten up all of his muscles, squeezing Vrek deeper inside of him. Vrek had to bite down on his tongue in order to prevent himself from growling out in pleasure. Looking up into Keith’s violet eyes, all Vrek could manage was to bring a single finger in front of his lips as if to needlessly remind Keith to be quiet. 

Glancing around at the other passengers, Keith noticed that no one was paying them any mind, and while he still felt utterly exposed, the thrill that filled him at the danger of the situation replaced any hesitation he might have had. He was already almost painfully aroused- at the point where waking up to the feeling of being impaled on his mate’s cock felt like a kindness to help quell his lust; if he had instead woken up any other way, he surely would’ve screamed in pure frustration. But Keith didn’t have the confidence to start moving just yet, so instead, he closed his eyes and felt every bulge and every ridge on his mate’s cock, and he squeezed down.

Keith was always tight, but this was something else entirely. Whether it was the way his legs were wrapped around his torso or if it was how Keith was tightening up the muscles inside of him, Vrek wasn’t sure, but it felt like Keith was literally trying to wring his orgasm out of him. Vrek gritted his teeth as he felt the inner walls of Keith ripple around his length, as if Keith were deliberately squeezing him from the base of where his knot would form all the way up the blunted head of his length.

They stayed like this for a while, the two of them focusing on their pleasures and pushing their own neediness back through their bond. As much as Keith could feel Vrek’s hard length filling him, he could also feel Vrek’s desire and admiration; and as much as Vrek could feel Keith milking his cock, he could also feel what it felt like to have another person complete you in the most physically intimate of ways. The two were lost in their own little world. 

This dance was driving them higher and higher- but it wasn’t quite enough to get either of them to finish. Still, they pushed for as long as they could, until the need to _move_ was too powerful to ignore. By the time they had pushed each other to this point, neither of them could’ve been bothered to see if anyone was paying attention to them. They would still only dare for the smallest of movements, but neither mate wanted to tear even a fraction of their attention away from the bliss they were experiencing. 

Vrek moved first: using both of his hands, he grabbed Keith’s ass, barely lifting him an inch off of his length before dropping him and letting the artificial gravity do the rest of the work.

“Mmmmrph-” Keith let out a choked whine. Somehow, it seemed like that had gotten the tip of Vrek’s dick lodged even deeper within him than before. Responding to Vrek’s play, Keith angled his own hips forward, and pressed himself against Vrek and ground down on his need. 

Vrek responded with a hiss of his own, and the two settled into a relaxed pace of trying to experiment with new angles and thrusts, all the while only making the slightest of movements. 

Keith began to wiggle his hips, moving himself in a circular pattern that had pushed the head of Vrek’s cock into nerves that Keith didn’t even know existed. 

Then, Vrek moved himself so that he was sitting on the edge of his seat, and pushed Keith back until Keith’s shoulders hit the crate that was stored in front of them. With Keith now leaning back against their cover, exposing his own hard cock to the cool recycled air of the cargo hold, it would be easy for anyone to see their union. 

“Ah-!”

The pair froze for a brief second as they both let out a gasp of air that- while quiet enough- seemed alarmingly loud to the joined mates. Vrek saved Keith the embarrassment, glancing around at the other passengers. If any one had come to realize what it was they were doing, no one was bothering to look; of the passengers that were still awake, none seemed to be looking over in their direction. 

Vrek pushed calm reassurance back through their bond, feelings of safety and security, as if they were both still back in their nest together. 

Settling his hands around Keith’s slender waist, Vrek began to gently bounce his mate in his lap, using his legs for most of the torque as he pressed Keith against the crate in front of him. With this new angle, Vrek was able to pull a few inches of himself out at a time, enough for the two of them to leave any pretenses of discretion behind: they were fucking, chasing their impending release. Keith’s own neglected cock was bouncing against his chest between the two lovers, the only attention it was receiving was the rubbing against the fabric of his shirt every time Vrek’s hips slapped against his own, and that was enough. 

Vrek could feel his mate’s own orgasm rapidly approaching, as if he were standing ashore and about to be washed away by the tide that was coming in. He knew that if he didn’t do something, that his mate would make a mess of them both. He acted quickly. With one hand, Vrek grabbed a handful of the front of Keith’s shirt, and yanked him forward until he was laying back flush against his chest once more. With his free hand, Vrek palmed Keith’s cock- his palm barely covering it in time to feel Keith’s own orgasm tear through him. The movement was quick and was by no means subtle- it drew the eyes of a few confused passengers, but from their vantage points, all they could see was his mate’s back. Vrek’s grin was insidious- no one was any the wiser to their coupling, and as he met the gazed of a few curious passengers, he could feel his mate’s come spurting against the palm of his hand. 

Once the few wandering gazes of other passengers were satisfied that “nothing” of interest was happening between the pair, Vrek diverted the rest of his focus back to his lover. Keith had been remarkably good- his orgasm had caused him to shudder in pleasure a few times, but he had not made a sound. “You’re doing so well, omega. So well…”

Vrek lifted his come covered hand from up between them, and placed his hand over Keith’s mouth. Keith’s response was immediate: Vrek could feel his mate’s small tongue lapping his own come out of the palm of his hand. _Quiznak, was that sexy_. 

The alpha lost any restraint he had left in him, as he felt all of the strain in his body pool at their union for a brief second before it all released. All of the tension in his body eased like an uncoiling spring as Vrek’s seed filled his needy omega. As the rest of his body started to relax in the afterglow of his orgasm, Vrek kept his teeth clenched to prevent himself from moaning. His omega stayed good and quiet throughout his climax, and he would have to be strong enough to do the same. When he removed the hand covering Keith’s mouth, he had found it to be licked clean of all evidence. 

Vrek leaned his forehead against his mate’s and placed a soft kiss against his lips, allowing his tongue to slide into Keith’s mouth and taste the lingering saltiness of his mate’s come. Vrek settled both of his arms around Keith’s waist once more, and Keith melted into his embrace, pulling him in to another greedy kiss. Vrek was all too happy to return the eager passion of his omega. In between the needy gasps of air that interrupted the kisses that they shared, Vrek could barely hear Keith whispering, “I love you. I love you.”

The two bond mates weren’t sure how much time had passed since they had begun their discreet affair- but it was all too unexpected when they felt the ship clank against the metallic hull of what could only be a docking bay. Had it really been nearly a whole varga?

A soft sigh escaped Keith’s lips when Vrek decided to pull away from their kiss. They needed to get themselves sorted before any of the disembarking passengers started to question why Keith was still sitting in his lap. 

It took Vrek all of two ticks after unsuccessfully trying to remove himself from his omega did he realize he had knotted. _Whoops._

\---

Keith had been in life threatening danger before: each mission with the Blade of Marmora had posed unforeseen risks. Before his work with the Blades, Keith had been a Paladin of Voltron: riding his Lion into battle against hordes of hostile forces. But this... _this-_ was most vulnerable he had ever felt. He was rooted in place, locked into a single position as his mate’s knotted cock held the two of them together. 

With Keith’s face buried against Vrek’s shoulder- he refused to move, and instead feigned sleepiness in the event any of the other passengers had asked why they had yet to stir. Vrek aided the guise of a sleeping mate by gently whispering words in an attempt to ‘rouse’ his beloved, soft enough not to draw any unwanted attention, but loud enough so that anyone intentionally trying to hear the words being said would be reassured that this was _all_ it was. 

The shuffling of footsteps faded away as the other passengers of their transport exited the shuttle, allowing Vrek and Keith the briefest moment of solitude in order to figure out what to do. 

“I hate you.” Keith muttered.

“That’s not what you were saying a few moments ago, Omega.” Vrek’s retort was met with a small fist being pounded against his arm. “We should get moving.”

“How long until you… go down-?” 

“Probably at least another ten doboshes,” both Vrek and Keith bit their lower lip- a nervous tick that Vrek had picked up from his mate and was now beginning to use in these moments of reflection. “We shouldn’t wait that long.” 

“I agree,” Keith said, and twisted his legs up to brace his feet against the bench that Vrek was sitting on. He looked back into his mate’s golden eyes, raising his brow as he prepared to separate the two of them by force. “- ready-?”

Vrek swallowed in a vain attempt to soothe the dry lump in his throat that was threatening to choke him. He was not ready. And while their last coupling had ended with him tearing his knot out of his small mate again and again- that was during the throes of an intense, frenzied love-making session. This was sure to feel much different. “L-Let me count us down. Three...”

Keith rolled his eyes, and before the word ‘two’ had even begun to form on his bond-mate’s lips, he pushed himself up with as much force as he could gather with his shaky legs. There was a strain, and a powerful tugging sensation against Keith’s crotch for just a few ticks. Luckily, Keith was very well stretched and lubricated- and the pressure that had worked itself into the form of a gut-coiling presence inside of him was instantly relieved. 

Vrek had actually _yelped._

Freed with an audible pop, the pair could feel the cold air graze across their very wet groins, before an utterly obscene amount of fluids gushed out of Keith’s sex. Keith was mortified at the puddle that had formed beneath him, with Vrek’s own pale-blue seed diluted with the clear sliminess of his own slick as it pooled on the floor between them.

Keith reached between his legs and pulled the zipper of his pants back into a more dignified position. _Oh god, I can feel myself dripping._ After he had brushed some semblance of respectability back into the front of his trousers, Keith turned to look at his mate.

Vrek was in no better position, as he had gotten himself back into his pants, but his pants were very tight. Keith could see _everything,_ and he reached down to run his fingers up against Vrek’s embarrassingly visible length. If Keith stared long enough- he could still see his partner’s cock twitch in what had to have been the very trailing end of his climax. Vrek coughed into his fist and picked up their bag, holding it in front of his waist so that no one would see his fully engorged length in their brief walk to secure passage on the final leg of their journey. 

“Okay- I’m ready.”

The two left the transport with a clear skip in their step as the burning embarrassment they shared pushed them both to flee the scene of their crime in all haste. 

\---

Satisfied that they had made it a significant distance away from their last shuttle, the two sat on an extremely soft grey couch amidst a small waiting area for those travelers stuck in the purgatory of this transport station. Vrek placed their bag in his lap and waited for himself to deflate before the two would bother standing again. 

For the first time, Keith was able to stop and admire the station that they were in. Vrek had been right- this station was immaculate. It’s ceiling stretched far above what would seem like a practical allocation of space, with vast columns that seemed more decorative than functional. Every surface of the station was a glossy white that seemed to almost reflect the cleanliness around them. _This_ is what Keith had in mind when he thought of a “space airport”.

“Almost there.” Vrek stated, angling the bag in his lap so that he could steal a peak down at the front of his pants. His length was still fairly visible, but substantially less so than it had been when they had rushed out of their last shuttle. 

Keith rested his head on his mate’s shoulder, giggling like a schoolgirl. “I can’t believe we did that.”

“Did you enjoy it?” Vrek lazily wrapped an arm around Keith’s waist. 

“Oh, it was incredible. And I definitely needed that. It was just… unexpected.” Keith mulled the thought over in his head, recalling the moments that they had spent together when he had first asked Vrek if he liked being called ‘alpha’ in public. Since then, Vrek had been very open about how much he reveled in his public displays of possessiveness over Keith, as well as how he didn’t try to mask the intimacy of their sparring sessions when things had gotten more… grabby. Keith thought that maybe this shouldn’t have been so unexpected. 

Vrek shifted in his seat, removing his arm from Keith’s waist and reaching into his inner jacket pocket. He removed two items, both about half the size of a playing card but with the same paper-thin compactness. One of the cards was clear, with holographic text and a 3D portrait of Vrek being all that was displayed. The other card was a dark metal, with some Galran text carved into the center of the card. 

“What are those?” Keith looked quizzically over at his mate.

Vrek offered the two cards to Keith without a moment’s hesitation, and Keith took them, first studying the intricacy of the Galran letters that were embedded in the metal card. It was heavier than he would have initially guessed, and it seemed to be made out of some expensive material.

“This...” Vrek began, his eyes not leaving the two cards that he had given to Keith. Keith couldn’t tell if the look in his eyes sadness or if it was some form of regret. Either way, he didn’t like the dark ink of worry that seemed to be pouring itself over his mate. “This is me. Identity card and credit chit.”

“I’ve never seen these before,” Keith turned his attention to the identity card, flipping it over in his hand. No matter which way he positioned the card, the text and picture always oriented itself to be facing the proper direction. “Wait- won’t people ask where my identity card is-?” Keith looked up at Vrek, the worry starting to pull at him that perhaps he had somehow forgotten to ask about what would seem to be such a critical piece of information. 

“No, not at all. Only first class Galra citizens possess them. I’m sure that I might be one of the only Blade’s on base that has one.” Vrek watched Keith run his thumb across the very angry symbol of the Galra empire that was displayed next to his name. Vrek knew that Keith was still having a difficult time reading the Galran language but- that symbol he was sure to recognize. 

“Do the Blades pay you with this?” Keith held up Vrek’s credit chit, offering it back to him. Vrek took back his two cards and placed them back into the same interior pocket of his jacket.

Vrek adjusted rather uncomfortably in his seat, these were not the kind of questions he had liked answering. But he calmed his mind and reassured himself that his mate wasn’t trying to pry information out of him, and that he was merely curious. “Well- not quite. When I joined, I told Ulaz that I would rather defer my payment stipend back into the Blade’s medical budget,” before Keith could ask him why he would do such a thing, Vrek interrupted his chain of thought by saying, “But- that does remind me of something else.”

Reaching into the side pocket of their bag, Vrek removed a small sheet of paper identical in size to the cards that belonged to Vrek. Handing this new card to Keith, Keith immediately noticed the difference in quality. The card had the flimsiness and durability of a sheet of cardboard, there were no words or intricate engravings on this card, instead- there was only a small piece of metal about the size of his fingernail stamped into the center of it. 

“This is your credit chit. I sorted it out with requisitions while you were picking out your clothes. The Blades loaded it with a stipend of GAC that you can spend- if you want to.” Vrek bit his tongue for a second, not really able to put much tact into what he was about to say next. “You don’t have to spend anything if you don’t want to. I can pay for everything. I just- I wasn’t sure if you wanted some form of independence. I didn’t want you to _have to_ rely on me if you didn’t feel comfortable doing so.”

Keith bent the card slightly between his pointer finger and his thumb, “This one is so different from yours.”

“It’s meant to be disposable. But- if you would like a more permanent card, we can get one for you. Lots of people can customize your credit chit to personalize it for you. If you would like, I can-” 

Keith stopped his mate’s incessant worrying with a gentle kiss to Vrek’s soft cheek. A warm smile grew across Vrek’s face and lit up his eyes as he leaned back in to scent his mate.

“Vrek, stop worrying. You’re my alpha. I know you’ll take care of me.” Keith genuinely meant what he said. All he needed, all he had ever needed, was Vrek to be by his side. 

The two sat wordlessly for some time. The doboshes that passed between them evaporated when they both brought their hands up to tangle their fingers in each other’s hair. Keith let out a soft sigh as Vrek’s claws threaded through his long, silky hair, and Vrek answered with a soothing purr as Keith’s fingers massaged their way behind his fluffy ear. 

Vrek nuzzled his cheek against the palm of Keith’s hand, looking over the back of the couch they were seated on to inspect the departure board behind them. Glancing back down towards his lap one last time to be sure that he was no longer on full display for all to see- Vrek laid a kiss against the inside of Keith’s wrist before saying, “Come on. We’re almost there.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up, Chapter 4: Old Friends and Feelings Forgotten
> 
> Thanks for reading, everyone! Please let me know in the comments if you enjoyed this chapter! I worked really hard on it and I hope that the pair's little heart-to-heart reads as well as I wanted it to. And- (DUNDUNDAAAAA) the mystery of who Vrek is has begun! I hope that you all want to find out more about his past... because you're gonna... but if anyone has any theories, I'd love to hear what you think. :D
> 
> Take care and stay tuned!


	4. Old Friends and Feelings Forgotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vrek and Keith make their way to Karrahe, and Vrek is reunited with pieces of his past.

The small waiting area of this particular hangar seemed separate from the spartan appearance of all the other waiting areas. Instead of the stark white paneling that had filled the rest of the transport station, this hangar bay was lit differently, with the distinctive Galra-purple lights emanating from the edges of the floor to create a very unique and (almost) relaxing ambiance. 

Keith recognized these as Galra colors. But instead of the deep violet being crushed beneath the oppressive blacks and dark greys of a typical Galran military compound, these purples were accented by a very bright silver, changing the hostility to a more tender and welcoming tone.

As the two approached the reception counter near the docking bay, the Galran woman who was manning the desk wrinkled her face, staring at the two with a questioning intensity that seemed to tell them both that they were not welcome here. Her dress was form-fitting, and entirely matching the silver that was lining the walls of the waiting area itself, save for a single line of purple stretching from the hem of her shoulder down to the cuffs around her wrists. The Galra was undeniably attractive, with shades of red in her short magenta fur being exaggerated by the deep maroon of her long hair.

“May I help you…. _Gentlemen_?” The Galra receptionist eyed the two of them wearily, spitting out the last word like an obligation that she in no way actually meant. Unlike most Galra, this woman had pupils- which made both Keith and Vrek keenly aware that she was studying the two, her silent judgement deafening as she scrutinized every article of clothing the two were wearing all the way down to their understated boots.

It only took Keith a moment to glance around at the other members of the waiting room: all of its inhabitants were Galra, and every Galra present was dressed in a fine tunic. The women wore multicolored tunics with meticulously placed gemstones embroidered into the collar of their clothing. The men’s solid-colored suits accented only by the purple and gold aiglet cords that were draped around their shoulders as if they were of military origin. Keith eyed the gold cords dangling on the chests of these Galra, briefly remembering Admiral Sanda from his days at the Galaxy Garrison. That was a lifetime ago.

Keith shifted his weight from one foot to the other, changing his balance so that he could press himself against Vrek’s side; no sooner did he do so, did he feel Vrek’s hand come to rest against his shoulder, pulling his mate against him. He was now very aware that they were not dressed to blend in with _this_ crowd. Vrek’s simple pants, shirt, and jacket were utilitarian, and while the grey and silver of his choice of clothing matched that of the other males here, it lacked whatever eccentric flourish that was used to distinguish the clear separation of class that Keith was witnessing. Keith’s clothes were eclectic: his black pants not matching his red shirt nor his brown jacket; because all of his clothes had been borrowed from the Blades, it was all slightly baggy and oversized on him -meant to be worn by even the smallest Galra- it was still too large for him.

Vrek straightened his back, and spoke with the calm authority that Keith would only ever hear when Vrek was discussing medical matters. When Vrek spoke with Keith, it was playful, confident, sometimes awkward, and entirely lacking the refinement that Vrek was now using in the overtones of his voice. “We require passage home.”

The receptionist raised a brow, speaking with an air of condescension that made it seem like she had expected them to ask her where the restroom was located. “ _Sir_ , tickets are 45,000 GAC per passenger for even our most meager accommodations. Perhaps another freighter can provide you with a more _economic_ option?”

Vrek held a hand up, taking a move out of Kolivan’s playbook to silence the attendant. Vrek placed his credit chit on the counter and used a single finger to push it over to the receptionist. “That won’t be necessary. Please provide us with a private cabin for our voyage.”

The receptionists' condescension dissolved when the metal credit chit clacked down on to the counter and was pushed towards her, replaced now with restrained suspicion. “I... I’ll need to see some sort of identification.”

Vrek sighed, placing his identification card on the edge of the counter closest to him, and bringing his free hand to rest in the space next to it. He could have pushed the ID closer to the receptionist, but instead, he chose to tap a claw incessantly against the surface like a ticking clock. The receptionist leaned across the counter to take the ID from him, and as the seconds passed, Vrek’s tapping became louder and quicker- as if to warn the poor receptionist that his patience was wearing thin. 

The console on the opposite side of the counter blipped in approval as the transaction was completed. 

Vrek’s own personal feelings might have betrayed the air of annoyance he was striving for when addressing the receptionist. But his heart did sink a little when the transaction was approved, thinking for a brief second, _well… now_ _she_ _knows. There’s no turning back_.

Keith could feel Vrek’s fears, but he couldn’t discern what was causing them. A subtle numbness was creeping its way through Keith’s heart, signaling that his bond mate had something on his mind. He reached up to grab the hand of his mate that was still lazily draped over his shoulder, and once he had his attention, he furrowed his brow at him as if to ask him what was troubling him.

“I apologize for the wait, sire. Would you like an envoy to carry your luggage and escort you to your cabin?” The receptionist's tone was now noticeably different as she handed Vrek another clear card that housed but a single glyph etched into it.

“Unnecessary.” Vrek took the card from the woman and made a very deliberate show of pressing a kiss against Keith’s temple before turning to walk past the desk and into the docking bay that held the ship that they were now scheduled to depart on. 

As they walked away, Keith could hear the exasperated exhale of the chastised receptionist as she mumbled something nigh inaudible about “... how was I supposed to know…”

Stepping into the hangar, Keith slowed his pace to stop to marvel at the ship before them. It was large... larger than any of the transports that were in the coalition's small fleet. But despite being a transport ship, this luxury ship (for that’s all that Keith could possibly conjure up to possibly describe it) had the elegance of a top-of-the-line hoverbike. While meant mainly for deep space, the luxury ship’s curves and angles pointed towards an incredible grasp of aerodynamics- and was sure to be an impressive beast while in atmosphere. The whole ship was painted in a reflective chrome, save for a single stripe of purple that stretched across the hull of the ship.

Vrek smiled and gently shook his mate back to reality, leaning down just a bit to nudge the side of Keith’s cheek with his nose. “Come on, you flew the Red Lion _AND_ the Black Lion of Voltron. Surely nothing else can impress you.”

Keith scoffed, rolling his eyes and looking up at his mate. “Nothing could ever come close to the Black Lion or to Red, but… this is nice.”

“Well... I’m glad you approve, darling. Now, can we go inside? Or would you like to stare at it some more?”

Keith jabbed Vrek’s side with his elbow, “Just let me appreciate this for a minute!” Keith stared at the ship, making a show of theatrically squinting as if to inspect the finer details of the craft in front of them. “Fine, _NOW_ we can go.”

\---

They navigated themselves through rows of excessively luxurious seating, passing through row after row of plush black armchairs only half full with passengers. The seats that seemed to fill the bulk of the spacecraft would have been large enough for the likes of Antok to sit comfortably without having to brush his shoulders against anyone surrounding him; both Vrek and Keith easily could have shared a single seat if they had needed to.

Keith buried his hands in the pockets of his jacket, his eyes darting between all the Galra (both furred and unfurred alike) they were passing as he became acutely aware of the disparity between the way he was dressed and the way everyone else was dressed. If he was dressed to infiltrate, he was doing it poorly… he stuck out. 

Fortunately enough, none of the other passengers paid any attention to him. Everyone that was already seated seemed to have their attention solely focused on whatever was engrossing them in their own personal tablets. 

When they had finally made it to their room, Vrek held the small card he had been given up to the door’s lock in order for the room to register its new occupants and open itself. 

The cabin seemed to be about the same size as Keith’s room back at the Castle of Lions, with the space only slightly lessened due to the inclusion of more furniture and a small restroom. Opposite the entryway, there was a holoscreen that was currently acting as a functional window, allowing them to see out into the hangar that they were still docked in. Against one wall- there were two vertically stacked beds, little alcoves in the wall that were flanked by storage space in the event that they had brought more luggage with them. Across from the sleeping accommodations were two more chairs, angled towards one another with a small coffee table set between them. None of the furniture aboard this ship resembled anything like what Keith had seen in space: both the Galra and the Alteans seemed to have an utter indifference towards coziness, as all their seats had been harsh, angled things that seemed to have been made for aesthetic purposes instead of sitting. Everything here screamed… _privilege_.

Standing in the doorway to their temporary accommodations, Keith turned enough to give Vrek a playful punch in the chest. “You fucked me in a dingy cargo bay knowing that _this_ is where we would be staying next...?”

Vrek chuckled, “Well you didn’t seem like you could wait.”

Keith flung himself into the bottom bunk and was immediately swallowed by the sheer softness of it all. Vrek took a moment to shove their bag into the compartment near the foot of the bed, before he too jumped into bed with his mate. Keith gathered his bond mate in his arms, allowing Vrek to burrow his face into his chest and relax against the strong scent of his omega. 

“So… what was that about...?” Keith prodded his mate. 

Vrek grumbled something against Keith’s chest. Vrek turned over in the bed, now resting the back of his head against Keith’s chest so his words wouldn’t be muffled, “I just can’t stand people that think that they’re superior to someone else just because of their economic class.”

“So this-” Keith gestured to the room around them, “- was to prove a point?”

“You don’t approve?”

“It’s nice, it just seems a little… much”. Keith paused, sensing the apology brewing in his mate. “But it was totally worth it to see that lady get so upset.”

“Yes. That did feel good.” Vrek placed a kiss on the inside of Keith’s wrist, and sat up so that he could begin removing his boots. “Well, my love... if it would make you feel better, on our return trip, I could book us smaller, even _dingier_ transports.”

“Ugh” was all Keith could manage in response to his mate’s threat. “She called you _‘sire’._ ”

Vrek placed a hand to the back of his neck, as if rubbing away any memory of having been addressed as such. “Yes well... there are many honorifics in my culture.”

Keith took that answer, considering it for a second. “Why not call you Doctor...? I mean… you told me how long medical school took you. And back on Earth, we’d call you a Doctor.”

Leveling his gaze at the floor in front of him, he exhaled deeply, and for a second- Keith could sense that whatever answer he was about to receive was more nuanced than he might have expected. 

“I know the Blades call me that at times, but… I’m not a Doctor. Not by Galra standards, at least.” Vrek stood up, as if he was incapable of relaxing while trying to answer a question that, to him, felt like picking at an old wound. “I finished medical school, yes. But I am… undeserving of the title in accordance to our rules.”

“What rules...? This sounds like a load of procedural garbage.” Keith knew that Vrek’s proficiency as the Blades’ medic was a source of pride for him, and he couldn’t imagine what could’ve possibly stood between his mate and the title and recognition that he was so deserving of. 

“Well…” Vrek began, his tone sounded to Keith like he was very unsure of how to actually verbalize his shortcomings. Vrek felt like he was standing on one foot, unable to find his balance. “... In order to have officiated my degree, I would have had to have performed a term of service for the Empire: operating as their Medic for two decaphoebs. It is a way of proving your usefulness and loyalty to the empire.”

“Oh…” Keith could sense his mate’s feelings as if Vrek’s resolve was but a single door separating him from a room on fire. Keith’s entire body was screaming at him as if he was reaching out for the superheated door knob and his body was bracing itself for the burn. 

Before the two had bonded -when Keith was still looking for prospective Alphas to help him through his first heat- a few of the Blade’s had mentioned how _private_ Vrek was: _‘He keeps to himself’_ Ilun had once said. At a time, Keith had once thought that it was Vrek’s modesty that made him seem so reserved, and that he was not one to entertain such vanity. Now, Keith could see that the reason why he seemed shrouded in so much mystery was because of the parts of himself that he was _ashamed_ of. 

Now wasn’t the time or place to be having this conversation. 

Keith stood up from the bed, and pulled his mate over to the seats that were arranged across the room. 

“So where is it that we’re headed, anyways?” Keith shifted the subject, and Vrek was all the more grateful for it. 

“We’re headed to Karrahe. My homeworld.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

Vrek’s ears perked up like a pet that had just heard the word ‘walk’. So many of the other Blades would have been reluctant to venture out to Karrahe, with it being a crown jewel seated deep within the core worlds of the Galra Empire. But Keith was a newcomer to this galaxy, and knew nothing about the negative connotations that accompanied being a rebel traveling to a world entrenched in enemy territory. Now, he could show his mate his homeworld as if it were any other planet in the system. He could be a tourist and not have to worry about the politics of war... even if only for a few quintants. 

“Oh, you’ll love it!” Vrek bolted up from his chair, and walked over to the giant holoscreen that was currently acting as their window. Using his own tablet, Vrek was able to throw some very scenic images of his home up on screen. 

Keith stared at the screen, and saw a vast city -larger than he had ever seen in his life- glowing with different hues of neon in the nightlife. Far above the tallest skyscraper, there was also an enormous mountain, towering high above everything else. 

“It’s a mineral world unlike anything else in the known universe!” Vrek explained. “That mountain there...? It is the only natural geological structure on the whole planet, tall enough to pierce the clouds. The rest of the world is one large salt flat, but... it’s not just salt... gemstones are embedded in the surface of the flats, so when the sun rises and sets, the entire world shines with all these brilliant colors!”

Vrek’s own enthusiasm was contagious, and soon, Keith was standing with him: letting Vrek point to different places on the holoscreen to help him visualize all the things he was trying to explain. “The entirety of our civilization is based around this one mountain. Inside the mountain, there’s this ore called Karradite. It’s a lightweight material but it’s incredibly durable. Think of... think of Luxite, but without the transformative properties. It’s highly coveted in its raw form, and only a few people on our planet know how to craft things with it: armor, weapons, some personal flagships. You could buy a whole ship for the price of one set of Karradite armor!”

Keith placed a hand on the silver bulkhead next to the holoscreen, inquiring “Is that why everyone on this ship is either wearing some form of silver or grey...?”  
  
“Yes. It’s… like our own color. Karradite is a reflective silver in it’s refined form, and a light grey as an ore” Vrek pulled up an image to show Keith. “Our fashion always reflects that... and some noble political families on the planet even go as far to have their clothes made out of Karradite. It’s needlessly expensive, but you can actually have individual fibers dipped in liquid Karradite to weave some spectacular clothes together.”

The two pulled their seats up in front of the holoscreen, so that they could both sit comfortably while Vrek recanted the history of his planet. The two were engrossed in such deep conversation that they weren’t even aware that the ship had departed the station and begun it’s voyage. Vrek spoke with such pride and confidence when describing his homeworld... talking about how the mountain at the center of the city was the symbol of his people, and how the mountain had been mined for the past ten thousand decaphoebs and how they had still barely scratched the surface. How every few decaphoebs, a new gemstone or mineral compound would be discovered, and how as frequent as every few phoebs- a new application would be found for Karradite, and how the population would celebrate with parades and festivities.

After some time, a Galra attendant knocked at their door. The pair allowed the attendant entry: a young, furless Galra with pale purple skin and stripes of lavender peeking up above the collar of his tunic. He carted in a trays of mid-flight refreshments. His eyes darted between Vrek and Keith for a few brief ticks before he was able to regain his composure and list off all of the snacks and beverages that were being delivered with compliments to the pair. No doubt the two were unexpectedly dressed for having occupied a cabin clearly reserved for the upper echelon of their passengers.

Once the attendant left, Vrek settled back into his seat and pulled Keith into his lap, allowing his mate to drape his legs over the arm of the chair with his rear nestled comfortably in his lap. As Keith nursed a cup of some sort of tea, Vrek began talking about how the medical programs at Karrahe were the most renowned in the sector and how entrance to the medical school there was highly competitive, with many Galra from multiple systems applying in droves for a seat at the galaxy’s most prestigious academy. Vrek talked about how scientists and doctors were the most revered members of his society, and how their achievements were hoisted above that of war-heroes to have monuments erected in their honor and holidays carrying their namesake. Keith thought that they would get along famously with the Olkari, had they not been on opposing sides of a never-ending war. 

Vrek continued to talk about his own days in medical school. About his days shadowing at the pediatric ward of a local hospital, learning bedside manner by interacting with little Galran children. _We would have adorable children, and you would make such a good father_. Keith’s thoughts were pushed through their bond without him having meant to. Vrek registered the thought and allowed it to distract himself for a tick, but continued to stammer through the rest of his story. Vrek didn’t even consciously realize that he had placed one of his hands on Keith’s stomach and was rubbing gentle circles across where his womb would be. 

When the announcement came over the ship’s intercom that they were entering Karrahe’s atmosphere, both Vrek and Keith jumped up from their seat to rush over to the holoscreen, reverting the screen back to its default settings to allow them to see their approach to Karrahe. It was dark, and Vrek explained that while the days on Karrahe were long, less than a third of that time would be in actual daylight: with twenty-four vargas of the planet’s thirty-two varga rotation being covered under the darkness of night. 

Neither Vrek’s words nor the pictures he had shown Keith could possibly do Karrahe justice. As the ship flew over the salt flats of the planet, Keith was mesmerized. The jewels that were apparently littered throughout the surface were multicolored, and even through the darkness, they glimmered with such vibrance that Keith would have assumed they were flying over an ocean and not a desolate mineral world. When the city came into view, they could feel both of their heart’s flutter: Vrek’s for the welcome sight of recognition as he had finally returned home, and Keith’s for the sheer wonderment of the alien world he was about to step foot on. The entire city was absolutely glowing in artificial light, with every color imaginable emanating from some sector of the megapolis. 

\---

Up close, the capital city of Karrahe was just as breathtaking. 

Upon leaving the transport station, the two stepped out onto the city streets. When the main doors opened, the pair was very nearly blinded by the powerful onslaught of lights and signage that greeted them. 

The ground was a pristine pale silver, completely devoid of any scuffs or dirt; Keith was almost afraid to step on it in fear that he might somehow sully the cleanliness of the floor. The walls seemed to all be that of a smokey gunmetal, with an almost imperceptible sheen of a cobalt glazing that bounced all the light back off of the reflective surface in order to further illuminate the streets. Every wall was plastered with advertisements: restaurants displaying their most mouth watering dishes, storefronts trying to attract patrons with the newest fashion, restaurants with their delicious looking food, pictures of happy Galra enjoying the latest trend, restaurants… _restaurants_. 

Amusement rose from their bond in the form of a pastel blue light flooding the corner of Keith’s vision. Once he was sure it wasn’t emanating from the lights on the street, and that it was coming from Vrek, he heard his mate ask him, “Are you hungry, my love...?”

He was. An entire day of travel surviving only on snacks was beginning to take its toll. Keith needed food. “Honestly I could probably eat a double-serving of food goo right now.”

“You can aim a little higher than food goo right now, darling. Come. I know a place.” Vrek placed a hand on the small of Keith’s back and started leading him where they needed to go. 

“Are we getting a taxi...?” 

“A what-?” Vrek tilted his head in confusion, an adorable gesture that Keith would liken to that of a small puppy. 

“A taxi. A cab. Someone to drive us.” After having walked past an entrance for the listed monorail that provided the residents of the city with much of their public transport, the two proceeded to a line of hover-cars that Keith could’ve only assumed were taxis.

“Well, first: I have no idea how either the words ‘taxi’ or ‘cab’ could’ve possibly been derived from each other. But yes. We’re getting a driver.” The two climbed into the back of an available hover car with little ceremony from their driver. Brief formalities were exchanged between Vrek and the Galra man, but once the destination was given, it was a brief and silent ten dobosh journey to where they needed to be going. Keith leaned his head against the window of the car, letting the city life outside wash over him, and Vrek leaned his own head against Keith’s shoulder, content with merely enjoying the company of his bond mate. 

No sooner were they grabbing their bag and leaving their ride was Keith searching for food, his focus darting from each of the buildings in front of them to try to guess which lavish restaurant his mate had in store for them. The answer, as it turned out, was none at all. Vrek led them both around a corner and into a dimly lit alleyway, with a majority of the alley's lighting coming from the glow of the main street. 

Sitting amongst the back doors and gutters of the alley stood a small stand. The stand seemed to be some type of food cart, with only two stools in front of it; the awning above the two stools were surrounded by some sort of thin fabric, draping around any would-be patrons to provide them with some semblance of privacy. The small little stand didn’t seem to have any means of transportation, as no propulsion or wheels were visible: the small food stand had apparently been here for ages and had simply refused to move. 

“Here...?” Keith took a second to turn and look back towards the bustling street, as well as the plethora of options available there. 

“Here.” Vrek stated with certainty. Taking his mate’s hand, he ducked under the thin veil of fabric to sit them both at the small cart. 

The Galra manning the cart was old. Keith wasn’t yet adept at telling _how_ old Galra were, but he would confidently say that the man could have easily been a grandfather. The Galra seemed to have once had fur- but through age or mange lost most of it, leaving a very wrinkly purple face that was still given dignity by the intricate patterns of white markings on his skin, creating a distinguishable mask. His eyes lit up when the tendrils of recognition worked their way into the recesses of his memory. “Little Doctor! Finally returning home, I see!”

The smile that graced Vrek’s face was warming, even if the undertones were laced with some sadness at the misuse of honorific. Vrek held a hand up to his shoulder, as if bringing to attention the lack of aiglet cords that could have been hanging from his jacket, “Not a Doctor, old man. What’s the matter? Vision leaving your one good eye...?”

Keith paused to look back at the old man. Indeed, one of his eyes was no longer the distinctive Galra gold, but was frosted over with white. If Keith stared hard enough, he could see the remnants of a long forgotten scar lining the man’s forehead and bisecting his right eye. 

The man brushed off Vrek’s comments as if they had offended him. “Nonsense. You were ‘Little Doctor’ ever since you were a kit. Nothing is ever going to change that”. The man refocused his gaze on Keith, bending down to get a better look at him. “And who is this here with you...?”

“This…” Vrek started, placing both of his hands on Keith’s shoulders before leaning in to give him a small peck on the cheek. “ _This_ is my bond mate, Keith.”

The old man smiled and beamed at Vrek with the same pride a father might give him. “Well! You come home after decaphoebs already bonded and without having asked _my_ permission! Where are you from, boy?”

The jovial tone that the two had taken was almost… familial, and while Keith highly doubted the two were actual family, it was clear that they had known each other for a long enough time to consider each other as such. 

“Earth.” Keith blurted out with no sense of grace. “I’m human.” 

“Never seen one of you before... but you know what Zarkon is like… more and more worlds added to the Empire every quintant. Is this your first time in the core...?”

Keith wasn’t sure what the question meant, having no idea what the implications of being a part of the Galra’s core empire would entail. Instead, he looked over at Vrek, who gave him a reassuring nod.

“Um… yeah.”

Vrek leaned in between Keith and the old man’s conversation, interjecting, “Old man, we’re hungry. Don’t you have a _job_ to do...?”

Scoffing, the old Galra got to work, reaching under the grill that was on his side of the cart to pull out two massive insectoid creatures. The disgust Keith had must have been very apparent when he laid eyes on the massive tick-like creature.  
  
Vrek could feel the waves of pale green nausea washing over his mate, tying itself in a thick knot in the base of Keith’s stomach as if he had just swallowed a chunk of lead. Vrek gave his mate’s hand a reassuring squeeze and nuzzled against the side of his shoulder. _Do you trust me?_

 _Of course I do_. Keith took a deep breath and physically tried to quell the unease he was feeling. It was easy with Vrek scenting him like this. Keith watched in awe at the well-practiced movements of the old man as he gutted the two ticks, removing everything until only a tender sliver of flesh remained. Both Vrek and the old man resumed their conversation as if nothing else could've possibly mattered. The man seared and skewered the meat, before pulling out a slender glass of a thick, orange liquid and dunking the two skewers into it before handing the food to both Keith and Vrek.

Keith did his best to stamp out any hesitation he could have possibly shown by immediately biting down into the meat on the stick. It was… delicious. It was tender and juicy, with the outside having a slight crunch of carcinogen from having been ever so slightly (and intentionally) burned on the grill. All of this was wrapped in a sauce that Keith would have described as the sweet tang of teriyaki- had it not been for lingering spiciness that followed.

Vrek was only halfway through his skewer and deep in conversation with his old friend when his mate devoured his meal. Vrek already knew that his mate was going to have thoroughly enjoyed the food here, but he was still surprised to see the absolutely ravenous hunger that had consumed Keith. 

The old man too, was quite surprised to see how quickly Keith had inhaled his food. “First time having chitkatin...?” he laughed a hearty laugh that would’ve brightened up the most dour of moods. Before Keith could even ask, the old man had already begun to make them more. 

The trio settled into a lovely conversation, with the old Galra genuinely curious as to what ‘Earth’ was like. _“I’ve seen many planets in my early days of service, but new worlds have always fascinated me,”_ he had said. 

Keith had almost found a comfort amongst this new Galra until he had asked them how they had met one another. Before Keith was able to open his mouth to speak of the Blades, Vrek was spouting out a story about how they were both providing aid to a newly liberated Galra planet. How Keith was a pilot delivering food supplies and how Vrek was providing medical care to the newly welcomed citizens of the empire. Vrek spoke with such confidence in his lies that he was able to provide lovely little anecdotes that made both him and the older Galra chuckle. The ease of which Vrek was able to lie was somewhat frightening, but Vrek had been at this game for much longer than Keith, and such lies needed to come easily in their line of work.

It had wounded Keith. He didn’t want to have to lie to someone that had only shown him kindness, but he knew that it was necessary. And as much as it had hurt Keith, he knew that it was hurting Vrek even more. This was someone he had known for ages, and he was lying to them about one of the most significant things to have happened to him in his life. Keith knew that their work with the Blades was secretive, but the gravity of that secret had been lost on him before this moment: he had never had to hide what he was doing with his life, and he didn’t have to put on a faux persona when he spoke with his friends.

Keith could feel the uneasiness that was boiling within his mate, and chose to spare him the discomfort of having to lie further. “Why’d you call him ‘Little Doctor’?”

“It’s been his name since he was a kit. Always has been, always will be.” The old Galra poured himself and Vrek a small glass of some blue-tinged drink, and when Keith made a move for Vrek’s cup, Vrek snatched his wrist.

“Oh nonono. _This_ you can’t have, my love.” Vrek leaned down closer to his mate’s face, and rubbed his nose against Keith’s as some cute form of consolation. “Come now, old man- surely you don’t have to tell this story…”

“It’s a good story!” The old man took a long swig of his drink, grimacing in what looked like pain. 

_Alcohol it is, then._ Keith thought to himself.

The old man continued, “I’ve been on this street for the last fifty decaphoebs. And _this_ little one-” he reached across the counter and ruffled Vrek’s hair as if he were still a mere child. “- was a prodigy. Never in my life have I seen someone that young _KNOW_ what they were meant to do. All the other children in this neighborhood would be running around playing soldier, pretending to blast at each other. But this one was having none of that. He would run around with the other children with a small pack of bandages, and when people fell down or got hurt... he would patch them up.”

Keith turned to look at his mate, resting his chin in his hand as he admired Vrek’s clearly humiliated face while this older Galra regaled his story.

“You see, my son had also wanted to become a doctor, and so I still had all his old medical books from his days at the Karrahe medical academy. So I would bring these university-level textbooks, and this boy -no more than 10 decaphoebs old- would sit here, in that seat, and read. By the time he was fourteen, he was making splints for the injured strays around here. By seventeen, he was the academy’s youngest entry.” The older Galra beamed with pride as if Vrek was his own child. 

Vrek coughed, “Sixteen, actually.”

Keith placed a hand on one of Vrek’s thighs and squeezed gently. He was always going to be proud of his mate, but this was just one more thing to be able to brag about. The two Galran men refilled their cups with whatever brain-cell-killing substance they were drinking and continued to take cautious sips. Keith looked up to the old man and asked, “So where is your son?”

The Galra’s eyes lowered, focusing on the fire that simmered between the rack of his grill. “He’s gone. He didn’t survive his rotation serving with the empire.” 

It took more than a few moments to get the conversation back on track, but in the end, the trio had ended up talking with each other for nearly a varga. In that time, Keith had eaten six of those skewers. When the time had come for them to depart, Vrek reached into his jacket to remove his credit chit.

“Oh no, doc. Your GAC isn’t any good here. Welcome home.”

\---

The trip from the food cart back to Vrek’s place was short. Less than two doboshes and three turns later, Vrek led them into another alley behind the main street, this time, up a flight of stairs. The entryway to his apartment was located in the back of a gunmetal grey building that seemed to be an arcade of sorts in the front. 

Keith wasn’t sure what to expect when Vrek opened the door to his apartment, but it wasn’t this. Vrek’s apartment was larger than his father’s house had been. Vrek explained that this apartment was where he grew up, and that when his sister was born his parents wanted larger accommodations but they didn’t want to have to give up the apartment where their son was raised, so they had simply left it in his name. When Keith had made a comment how Vrek’s family must have been rich or something- Vrek seemed a little uncomfortable. “ _We’re fortunate, but not rich,_ ” he had said. 

Vrek dropped their bag just inside the entry door to their apartment, and no sooner had the bag hit the floor did he press his mate up against the nearest wall and start to nip at the scent gland between his neck and shoulder, eliciting pleasured gasps from Keith’s throat. The biting gradually turned into soft licks, and Keith pulled Vrek’s face into a tender kiss.

They were both tired, and they had both resigned themselves to use whatever energy that they had remaining from their travels to carry themselves no further than the bedroom.

“We should shower.” Vrek pulled away from their kiss and planted one smaller kiss on his mate’s lips, as if it were an apology for having to end such a lovely moment. 

The realization slowly dawned on Keith and his face started to burn a deep crimson. “Oh god. Just let me die. Do I smell like sex?”

“Oh, you positively reek of it, darling. For the last few vargas. But no one here is going to be improper enough to draw attention to that.”

“But even the old man...” Keith began, feeling deeply embarrassed that he sat there in idle conversation while he was still stinking from their last mating session.

“The old man is partially blind and losing his hearing. I doubt his sense of smell is holding up any better.” Vrek pressed his soft lips to Keith’s forehead to help ease his mate’s suffering. “Come on. Shower.”

The apartment’s living room was connected to the kitchen, with no clear dining table or partition separating the two. Instead of having a couch in front of the rather large holoscreen, there was merely one giant step down into a nook in the floor, similar to their nest back at the Blades base but… couch-shaped. There was one large bedroom that was once Vrek’s parent’s that now would have the luxury to call his own, and one smaller bedroom that Keith could have once pictured being for a smaller (but still just as cute) Vrek, that was now converted into a study littered with different medical journals. 

The shower room was separate from the bathroom- with the modestly sized room being the shower itself. There were spouts on every wall, all angled down towards the center of the room. There was no drain visible, instead, the edges where the walls met the floor were all at a slight angle for the water to drain. When the two had stripped and activated the shower, the pressure was heaven. Keith stood in the center of the room with his face buried against Vrek’s chest, and Vrek stood with his arms wrapped around Keith’s shoulders as the two let the water pour across their bodies.

A vibration shower is in no way a good substitute for a real one. Feeling the warm water running down his spine while being held in the blissful arms of his mate, Keith was reminded of the fact that even such a triviality as a hot shower seemed like a lavish gesture to him now.

By the time the two had exited the shower, steam was rising from Keith’s heated skin and Vrek’s fur was puffed out enough to make Keith audibly laugh. 

Vrek wrinkled his face and scowled playfully at his mate. _What’s so funny?_

Keith couldn’t help his amusement from erupting in Vrek’s subconscious like a string of firecrackers going off. Soon enough, Vrek too was laughing without even really knowing why, and that alone was enough to draw out Keith’s laughter even longer.

When they had both retired to the bedroom, Vrek had laid out a pair of very soft sleep clothes for both him and Keith. Vrek had known that any of his clothes would clearly be too large for his human mate, but he wanted to offer it all the same. Keith stroked the fabric thoughtfully, the clothes felt as if they were made of silk, as if they were so soft that they would surely rip if they had come into contact with so much as a gentle breeze. The two pulled on unfancy-looking sleepwear and climbed into bed wearing both their pajamas and the smiles on their faces. 

Curled up in the safety of each other’s arms, they were both asleep within mere ticks. 

\---

Keith couldn’t breathe.

He was sinking- into what, he didn’t know.

He felt like he was drowning, as if he was lost in a sea of black ink... unable to see which way was up. He opened his mouth to scream and immediately his lungs were filled with whatever darkness he was trapped in. His lungs were burning, he needed to breathe and he needed to feel- he needed to open his eyes and- 

Keith was startled awake. He wasn’t dreaming anymore, but everything still hurt. He was gasping for air as if he would never breathe again. His whole body was filled with an ache that made it almost impossible to move. Everything inside of him felt like it was being shut off and extracted from him, as if to make room for the massive wells of sadness that were filling his whole being. He felt like he was being taken apart and put back together in all the wrong ways.

Keith had experienced his fair share of panic attacks in the past. In the months following his dad’s death, he had woken up in the middle of the night to more than a few bouts of suffocating anxiety. This was worse. 

“Vrek...?” Keith’s voice was hoarse as if he had been screaming for hours.

Reaching out across the bed, Keith found that he was alone. His mate’s side of the bed was cold: he hadn’t been there for some time. Panic started to well up in Keith’s heart as questions started to flood into his mind. _Where is my alpha? Is my alpha alright? What's happening to me?_

Mustering up what energy he could, Keith rolled himself out of bed, pulling the blankets of the bed up around his shoulders and dragging it behind him as if it would shield him from the cold that was biting at his fingers. It was still dark outside.

 _Vrek...?_ Reaching out with their bond, he barely received a faint response of acknowledgement from his mate. Something was wrong. 

Keith found Vrek in the living room, crouched down with his back against the door to the apartment, his knees huddled against his chest and his arms wrapped around his legs. Every few seconds, Vrek’s breathing would hitch up as if it were his last, dying breath. Vrek was crying- no, Vrek was _sobbing_. Vrek was scared- he looked broken. It killed Keith to see him like this.

Next to Vrek was a small holoscreen -one that Keith hadn’t even noticed when they’d first entered the apartment a few vargas ago- on it, there was a woman. The woman looked as standard as Galra seems to come: soft lavender fur gracing an angular face and topped with slightly darker purple hair. She was speaking but whatever she was saying Keith couldn't pay much attention to, but it took only a second for Keith to see that the surroundings behind the woman on screen was the same door that Vrek was leaning back against. This wasn’t a recording or a message, this was happening _right now_.

Keith leaned his back up against the door with his mate and slid down it until they were both sitting shoulder to shoulder. When Keith draped the blanket around his bond mate, Vrek immediately wiped the tears from his face with a corner, before falling against the comforting presence that Keith was offering. 

“Hey... it’s alright, baby. I’m here.” Keith kissed the back of Vrek’s head and laid an arm across his mate’s broad shoulders as best he could. He pushed calming certainties through their bond, _Don’t worry. I’m here. I’ll always be here. I’ll always be with you._

From here, Keith could make out some of what the woman outside was saying. Although through the pained cries of his mate and through her own gentle tone, he could only get the jist of it. “ _... it’s okay for you to come home… I just want to see you again… I miss you so much… please talk to me.”_ She was pleading with Vrek. Keith hadn’t known how long she had been outside, but she stayed for another varga before giving up her pleas and leaving with “ _... I’d love to hear from you before you disappear again, please._ ”

Vrek felt like he was a ship lost in the tides: a small boat amidst the thunderous waves threatening to capsize his small sanctuary from the endless depths of his own ocean of suffering. Being thrown about and rocked in the wind and waves of his own turbulent emotions, he reached out for his mate as if he were the only life raft that could save him from being swallowed whole by his own sadness. 

“I love you,” Vrek choked out, removing his arms from the feeble position of hugging his own legs to clutch one of Keith’s arms as tightly as he could. He never wanted to let go. Keith was the single bit of hope that he had found in his life. _Don’t leave me._

“I love you too, Vrek.” _And I never will_.

It was a promise. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Artist Credit: @eeniiart on Twitter
> 
> Next up, Chapter 5: The Wood Amongst the Metal*
> 
> One thing that's always on my mind is how easily Blade's have to be able to deceive people. Even with people they love, they can't really discuss their spy work. Being guarded for so long means that you can't ever really "switch off", huh? 
> 
> SoOoooOooOoOoo... Anyone care to venture a guess as to who that last woman was and what's going on?  
> Find out, next chapter!
> 
> P.S. Also, in case you noticed, I bumped the chapter total up from 11 to 12. I think I got one more in me. xP


	5. The Wood Amongst the Metal*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a much needed talk about the past, Vrek and Keith finally have a day to enjoy themselves.

Keith started to stir, and proceeded with his morning routine of rousing himself from the lovely depths of unconsciousness. 

_Breathe_ , he told himself. Trying to expel any nightmares that could’ve possibly been hiding in the fringes of his senses.

 _Feel_ , he commanded his limbs. He clenched and unclenched his fists around the soft blanket that he was buried under. His legs stretched as far as they could, letting the strain of his muscles carry his mind back to reality. 

_Vrek_ , he finally thought. It was the last step of his routine, habitually trying to inhale his mate’s scent as if the single reassurance of his mate’s scent was what would gift him the courage to face the day. Keith turned his head to try to press against where his mate should be, and found nothing, but before Keith could panic- a warm palm pressed itself against his cheek, dispelling any worry that he might have had.

Keith chased the reassuring embrace that he felt heating up the side of his face, mewling with joy at the proximity of his mate. When he opened his eyes, he was met with Vrek’s soft gaze staring down at him. 

_Hey..._ Vrek greeted his mate through their bond, the warm glow of Keith’s face illuminating Vrek’s life. The sun was already up, but _this_ was his sunrise. Vrek’s hand traveled down Keith’s cheek to cup his chin in his hand, his long clawed fingers caressing one side of his face and his thumb the other. 

_Hey_ , Keith answered back. The rest of the world returning to his awareness, Keith had realized that he was laying in the first step-down of the recess in the floor that constituted Vrek’s couch, and that Vrek was now laying on the floor above him. He didn’t even remember falling asleep last night; Vrek must have carried him the short distance across the living room and gotten him tucked under the blankets. 

“Are you hungry, my love?” 

“Starving.”

Keith offered his mate his hands, and Vrek took them, helping to haul Keith to his feet. Once standing, Keith could see the vast assortment of food that was stretched out across the kitchen counter.

“I’m ah... I’m not much of a cook myself, but I know all the best places to eat around here.” Vrek‘s apology was unnecessary but sincere, as he couldn’t prepare his mate food: that was one thing as Keith’s alpha that Vrek was unable to do for him. 

Keith grabbed a plate off the counter and started to serve himself a hefty portion of everything. He wanted to try it all. “Honestly, you could’ve told me that the plan would be to eat at that old man’s food stand for every meal and I would’ve been totally fine with that.”

Vrek’s amusement filled Keith’s vision with the multicolored lights that you might see at a rave. “You nearly turned green when you saw him pull out those chitkatin…”

“I did not turn green!” Keith shuddered, remembering the feeling when he had laid his eyes on those massive, tick-like insects. “Fine. Maybe a little. But I’m not used to eating bugs, okay?”

“Oh? Well... most dishes here on Karrahe are going to be derived from some type of insectoid. Should I try to find you the grossest one? Or perhaps I should pull up pictures of what it is you’ll be enjoying for breakfast?” Vrek’s teasing was lighthearted, a complete 180 from the distress he was feeling before the two had passed out against the apartment door. 

Keith shot his mate a warning glare, and if he had been any more Galra, it would’ve been likened to baring his fangs in the most innocuous way possible. “Let me enjoy this, Vrek.”

“Of course, dearest.” Once the pair had filled their plates, they returned to their couch and began to eat their food. 

After the two had finished filling their mouths and enjoying the silent company of each other, Keith made the decision to address the inevitable. “So... are we going to talk about what happened last night?”

Keith was happy that he had waited until they had both finished their breakfast, because Vrek immediately set his plate down and turned his gaze downwards. A cold chill danced its way up Keith’s spine, and he shuddered in response. Vrek was freezing up, and the recollection of what had happened the previous night infected the serenity of their morning. 

“Keith... you… you talk about your past. About your father. About Earth. About the Galaxy Garrison. I… I am sorry that I have not repaid that with my own past.” Vrek started to well up with tears, contemplating what this type secrecy might mean for their relationship. “I’m sorry Keith... you must feel like I’m a complete stranger for not confiding in you-“

“Hey. Stop that.” Keith latched on to his mate’s face with both of his hands, quickly jerking Vrek’s head up so that he could stare into the rich goldness of his eyes. “I already told you: no more of this self-deprecating crap. If it bothers you that much, I don’t need to know about your past. I know you _now_. I’m in your head, you’re in mine. I love you, and you love me. Nothing is going to change that. Ever.” 

How had Vrek gotten so lucky? How could he have a mate that was so… perfect? The tears in his eyes had shifted from tears of remorse to tears of joy as he leaned his head against his mate’s. He was happy, so happy that Keith wasn’t mad at him.

“No... you… you should know. Speaking about myself is difficult for me. I guess... mainly out of guilt.” Vrek offered. This was new territory for him, but it would be fine charting a course through the unknown, as long as Keith was with him.

“Guilt...?” Keith leaned back from his mate, meeting his gaze once more as if to coax an explanation out of him.

“Well... you see. The other Blades... they all have such strong reasons. Such powerful reasons that drive them. Regris’ mother’s species was vaporized by the Galra. Ilun’s family was massacred in front of her, Antok was tortured, Segrani was exiled. The list goes on and on. Nothing that dramatic ever forged me into a Blade. I feel like I’m… unworthy.” Vrek’s gaze started to drift back down, leaving Keith’s eyes to start its certain path back down towards the floor.

Keith wasn’t going to let that happen. Before Vrek’s gaze could fall too far, he spoke up- demanding his mate’s full attention once more. “Vrek... they had their lives taken from them. This fight is all they know. You did something so much more impressive.”

“I... I did...?” Vrek’s ears perked up, his fur ruffling under Keith’s touch. 

“They didn’t have a choice in this war. You gave up a normal life for this fight. You wanted to be Doctor... and you could have been. You could’ve joined the empire and enjoyed a cushy life here on your homeworld, ignoring the tragedies across the galaxies for a life of peace and comfort. You _chose_ to fight. You _chose_ this life, and that makes you so much stronger than any of the other Blades.”

Vrek felt his heart sink. All this time that he had spent wallowing in his own self-pity bore down on him like an immense weight crushing his shoulders. And with a few mere sentences from his mate, all of that pain was gone; the weight had been lifted. Keith’s words had acted like an antidote to all of Vrek’s self-doubt, because Vrek could _feel_ the sincerity behind them. He wasn’t just trying to comfort Vrek, Keith truly believed what he was telling him.

Keith continued, “Listen… I know what it’s like to be the quiet one. So... we don’t have to talk about all of this now. But… I’m here for you, okay? I love you. And if you want to talk about it... I’d like to listen.”

No, now was as good a time as any. They had been bonded for too long without Vrek having shared at least a modicum of detail about his life. He couldn’t bring himself to say the words, so he just shook his head as if to signal Keith that he wanted to share. 

Keith nodded in a cautious understanding. His mate felt like he had been stabbed, and that the pressure he was placing on his wounds was the only thing stopping him from bleeding out. But Vrek wanted to talk- and surely getting these words out in the open, at least a little at a time, would be better than letting this wound fester. “So that woman last night, she was…?”

“My mother,” Vrek began. Keith could have already assumed that. They looked similar enough. “I... my family. My family is well-off. Not exactly rich but... they have a good place here. All the money on that credit chit is in my family’s name. They can see when it’s been used, and I’m sure that once my mother saw that I had booked transport home, that she knew she would have to try to see me.”

“When was the last time that you saw her...?”

“Before I left for the Karrahe medical academy. That would be… thirteen decaphoebs ago...?” 

Keith grimaced at that answer. He had never known his own mother, and he had lost his own father when he was about twelve years old. Which meant that he had seen his family more recently than Vrek had seen his own. “Why not see them-?”

“I just… I can’t. I’m an embarrassment. I finished my studies, and when the time came for my compulsory service to the empire... to prove myself to my family, and to the world... I just… I couldn’t. I ran.”

“That’s not your fault, Vrek…”

“But it was. I hadn’t even seen what the empire had done to the world’s that they had conquered yet. I just… I was just too much of a coward to see combat.” 

Keith let the words hang in the air, in utter disbelief. He had seen Vrek’s selflessness on missions before, and he had seen the extent of which he would push himself for the sake of his other compatriots. There were many adjectives that he would have used to have described Vrek and ‘coward’ was definitely not one of them. 

“Ulaz eventually approached me… in some bar here in the city as I drowned my sorrows in the strongest drink I could find. He spoke to me about a cause. About a reason. He couldn’t promise me the title that I had aimed at for so long, but he could promise me that my work would save lives and... in the end... that was what I had truly wanted to do. And so I joined the Blades.”

“And then…?” Keith circled back around, Vrek’s explanation had offered some insight as to his past, but it hadn’t answered his current standings with his family. 

“And then…” Vrek started, chewing his lip for a moment as if stalling for all the time he could before he had to face the reality of his past. “And then… I left. I sent a message to them all and I told them how sorry I was, and that I was going to spend my life traveling to newly conquered worlds to help give medical aid to all the local inhabitants that were ‘liberated’ by the empire. I couldn’t face them. I haven’t spoken to my father since, I know he’d have disowned me if my mother would let him. My sister, she’s a Colonel in the Galra empire now: she’s the real pride of the family. My mother is the only one that still tries to talk to me. She’s the one that left me this place and allows me to access our family’s finances. Once every few decaphoebs I resurface here, thinking I’m strong enough to face her, and I never am.”

“Do you still want to see her?” Keith asked. 

“I... I do. I miss her. But I don’t think I can face her” Vrek laughed a small laugh that was somehow entirely devoid of anything resembling real happiness. “I guess I’m still a coward.”

“No Vrek, you’re not. You’re not a coward, you’re an idiot.” Keith admonished his mate before leaning in to place a gentle kiss to his lips. “You just have a bigger heart than anyone else. You have no problem running into enemy laserfire but you froze back when you tried to tell me that you weren’t my alpha any more.”

“To be fair, you can’t suture heartbreak. I just didn’t think that I could’ve possibly offered you-“

Keith cut him off, “Like I said... an _idiot_.”

“- well. Thank you, my love. I think.” Vrek grinned at Keith, the beginnings of happiness finally returning to the warmth of his mate’s smile. 

“Just try to remember: anything you face, we face together.” Keith smiled back at him. 

“I will try.”

“So... do you think I would like your mother?” Keith prodded his mate. 

“Well... I would certainly hope so. She’s kind and understanding. And she’s taught me everything I know about empathy.”

“Do you think she would like me?”

Vrek reached up towards Keith’s shoulders and in a single, graceful movement, spun Keith around and pulled him down so that his head was now framed in Vrek’s lap. Vrek looked down at his now up-side-down mate, admiring each and every gradual curve of his human face. “Keith. My love. My darling. My stars above. What’s not to like?”

Keith turned his head and buried his face against Vrek’s thigh so that his mate wouldn’t be able to see the blush that was creeping up his face. 

Vrek wouldn’t have to see it. He could feel it. And he loved it. 

\--- 

It took Keith a considerable time to get dressed. 

Nothing that he had brought with him seemed to match what everyone else here on Karrahe was wearing. 

_This? No. This? No._ Keith ran down his mental checklist of the clothes that he had borrowed from the Blades, things that had seemed to cover a vast array of styles and forms for use throughout all the spacemalls and outposts Keith had seen here in space. 

Vrek stood in the doorway to their bedroom, arms folded over his chest as he waited for Keith to find something he deemed appropriate to wear. Even he was wearing a form-fitting grey tunic that had silver paneling accenting the seam lines across his chest. “Keith, no one is going to care if you’re not wearing silver or grey.”

Keith grumbled. “Of course you would say that. I’m going to stand out.”

“Keith…” Vrek stalked up behind his mate as silently as you might expect from a spy of his talents, reveling in the shudder that he gave his mate when he unexpectedly placed his lips against the back of Keith’s neck. “... you’re always going to stand out. You’re a flickering light in the darkness and an oasis amongst the endless sand dunes of Jarre. But if it bothers you that much, we can go buy you some clothes later.”

“Fine. I’ll wear… this.” Keith picked out another pair of pants that were meant for a much tail-ier species, alone with a black jacket that he could close over his red top. When he had pulled his pants up around his waist, he could feel his mate slip a growl of approval from behind him. Keith turned to give Vrek a sultry look over his shoulder, accompanied with a small wink that he knew would get his mate’s blood pumping. “Come on, I’m ready.”

\---

Vrek’s apartment was stationed fairly close to what might be considered a main mass of public transportation throughout the city. It was currently in the middling daylight hours, which meant that the city wasn’t nearly as active as it would be once the sun would set. Karrahe, outside of its prestige, minerals, and educational amenities, was known for its nightlife: the parties, the clubs, and the bars, all things that Vrek knew that Keith had little interest in.

The two walked a decent bit away from the main street, again ignoring the listings for the monorail that connected the most distant parts of the city together. Ducking through a mix of alleys, side-streets, and barely navigable pathways sandwiched between buildings. The pair had their fingers laced together, with Keith being pulled along by Vrek’s more keen sense of direction. Keith was surprised at how many shops and restaurants were hidden off the beaten path, like hidden treasures waiting to be discovered. 

Once they had gotten thoroughly lost in the labyrinth of Karrahe’s layout, Vrek started leading them solely by the sound of running water. He could hear the gentle trickle of a stream long before Keith could, and started to follow his senses like a cat stalking its prey. Only a few turns from what was sure to be their destination, Vrek felt a tug on his arm, and turned to see that Keith had stopped in his tracks and was staring open mouthed at something. Following his gaze, Vrek was almost confused by the look of sheer wonderment that had struck his mate’s face: he was just looking at a well. 

To Keith, it seemed like much more than that. All the other streets that they had been on had shone with the clear plasteel look of metal that had been meticulously scrubbed within an inch of its life to be sure that it was always immaculate. The alley leading up to where they had been standing had been covered in some type of fine moss, and was spider-webbing out from here. The well itself seemed to be made of some type of stone, and didn’t echo the sharp corners or reflectivity that every other surface of Karrahe had. 

“What... what is this place...?” Keith asked, and took a step towards the well. 

Vrek tilted his head curiously, still holding his mate’s hand, it was Keith now that was leading the way. Vrek regarded the look of wonderment on Keith’s face, and then tried to reach back into his memories as best as he could, trying to find some semblance of cultural significance that this place might have. “Well… back before the city had been built up... the city of Karrahe was a small place. Before the mining here had really become lucrative, we relied on the water that was beneath the surface. Wells like this must be… nearly as old as the settlement itself.”

Nearly ten thousand decaphoebs old. And while Keith was by no means a spiritual person- there was certainly an energy here that he could sense somewhere deep within him. 

Vrek and Keith both stepped cautiously to the edge of the well, looking down the shaft to be met with nothing but darkness and only the faint sound of sloshing water. Releasing his mate’s hand, Vrek grabbed the pull-rope that was hanging down from the top of the well, and began to pull the bucket up, continuing his explanation. “Nowadays, we get all of our water shipped from off-world. But… I remember…” Vrek started to grunt with the force of the exertion. “My mother would tell me... early settlers here said… that the water here… could purify the heart… and cleanse yourself of guilt.” Bringing the bucket to a rest on the edge of the well in front of them, Vrek grabbed one of the tin cups sitting next to the well and offered it to Keith.

“So what happened…?” Keith took the cup and filled it in the bucket. 

“Well… Zarkon’s rule became absolute. And the imperative became expansion. I guess people stopped caring whether or not their heart was pure or not.” Vrek clicked his tongue with what was surely a gesture of dismissal for all that the empire had done. 

Keith took a sip of the water. It didn’t taste salty -which is what Keith had expected being that it was buried beneath an entire planet of salt flats- it was refreshing, and it tasted distinctly different from any other water he had tasted in his life. Maybe slightly denser? In any case, it was different- and something wholly unique to Vrek’s homeworld. When Keith handed the cup to Vrek, he took it without much ceremony and brought the cup to his mouth. 

Vrek didn’t think much of the water. He’d grown up with it. It tasted the same as it ever did. He actually felt bad for a tick that Keith was clearly experiencing something more meaningful than he had ever given a moment to contemplate. If Keith was this interested in the cultural significance in something so mundane to him as their water supply, perhaps a change in his agenda for the day would be warranted. After he had taken a sip from the cup, he set it back down on the ledge he had taken it from and let the bucket fall back into the depths below. 

Just as he was about to turn to leave, he found Keith’s hand resting against the back of his head, and his mate’s delicate fingers working their way against the base of his ears. 

He let a trill of happiness erupt from his throat, he couldn’t help it. And it made Keith smile. Vrek’s brain sputtered out for a moment, and all he could focus on was the warm reassurance that was working itself into his head. 

When Keith finally removed his hand from the back of Vrek’s ear, he tugged down on Vrek’s tunic and asked him, “Come on, where was it we were headed?”

Vrek shook some awareness back into his brain, his big, soft ears twitching as his brain worked frantically to try to catch up and process the words that his mate had spoken. “Um… this... this way.”

Keith would never admit it to Vrek, but he did revel in the fact that such a simple gesture could bring all of his mate’s cognitive functions to a grinding halt. Keith bit his tongue ever so slightly to stop the mischievous smile he had from stretching across his face as he followed Vrek’s lead. 

Sure enough, opposite from the well, Vrek and Keith approached a small stream, no larger than 2 meters across. Docked at the edge of the sidewalk where stone met water, was a small gondola. The gondola was unmanned, and seemed to be made of a lightweight and sturdy plastic. The inside of the boat wasn’t concave like the outside, and instead seemed to be a flat, padded surface. 

Vrek stepped down into the boat, before reaching back up and extending a hand outwards to Keith, offering him assistance to step down with him. 

Keith gave his mate a look for the redundancy of his action, before stepping down into the boat himself.

Punching a destination into the console located at the back of the gondola, Vrek slid his credit chit into a slot and sat down. Vrek leaned back against the console and held his arms open for his mate, inviting Keith to sit with him. Sliding down to sit between Vrek’s thighs, Keith leaned back until he was pressed against the firmness of Vrek’s chest, and let the familiarity of Vrek’s embrace engulf him.

The boat started to move, slower than either of them may have initially expected, and leisurely made its way down the narrow canal. 

_The city is so different like this…_ Vrek and Keith both thought, the two giggling at the strength of their bond and how they were still barely able to tell whose thoughts belonged to who. 

But they were right. Instead of being bathed in neon, the tall buildings reflected the red glow of the planet’s sun. Making the city seem less like the frenetic onslaught of activity and advertisements and presenting the facade of something much more calm and serene.

As they sailed down the small stream, the two passed under low bridges and behind homes and businesses alike, with Vrek sneaking quick kisses against the back of his mate’s neck. Keith pointed out to certain structures they were passing, inquiring as to what they were, and Vrek did his best to recall which building was a government building, which was a laboratory, and which was a restaurant. When they had passed a structure that housed an unlit sign baring the lascivious curves of what was meant to resemble an a-gendered and very slender Galra, Keith looked at Vrek and asked “And that is…?”

When Vrek’s eyes read the Galran text that was stretched across the sign, he immediately averted his gaze back down to Keith, having to clear his throat with a cough before he could squeak out: “That’s… that’s an Omega den. Please do not make me explain further than that.”

“Oh, I can guess.” Keith’s amusement was cruel as he leaned back against his mate, and with the smallest of wiggles from his hips, he confirmed that his mate's mind did wander to the thoughts of all the indecency that was surely occurring within those walls. 

Their ride continued on and soon, Keith found his feet resting up on the edge of the boat with his head placed squarely between Vrek’s thighs. Vrek was currently stroking an idle clawed hand through Keith’s hair and staring at all the features of his mate’s perfect face.

Keith was staring directly up towards the sky, appreciating the deep orange that stretched across his vision. When Keith closed his eyes, he could feel the warmth of Karrahe’s sun, bathing him in its light. Once the tell-tale chill of shade started to dance it’s way across his body, Keith once again opened his eyes and saw that the clear orange skies had been almost completely covered by a set of trees laying along each bank of the canal. The trees had a rich mahogany bark with long branches arcing away from the tree like lightning bolts, and each branch was covered in a litany of rustling leaves so vibrantly purple in color that Keith thought just for a second that they might be artificial. 

There was a small tickling of merriment in their bond, with Keith feeling the subtle flare of amusement rising up from within his mate. Vrek had been fiddling on his tablet with his free hand for the last few doboshes, but when his mate’s interest had shifted to the trees around them, he placed the tablet back down and started to explain. “They’re called Imperial Oaks. Once native to Daibazaal. Every Galra core world has them planted wherever they can… and it’s said that the blood of fallen Galra runs through its veins and paints the leaves that color.”

Keith considered it for a moment, morbidly contemplating that, if that were the case- how much of that blood he had contributed to spilling. But he said nothing, and instead reached up to catch one of the falling leaves that had been blown free by the slightest of breezes. The leaf crumbled in his hand when he closed his fist around it, giving off a satisfying crunch and leaving only a fine purple dust in its wake. The rest of the falling leaves landed in the water around them, and continued to float downstream with them as if acting as escorts to wherever they were heading. 

  


They were approaching the base of the mountain that was located at the center of the city. In some sort of natural phenomenon, all the streams and viaducts that snaked through the city like the one they had just traveled down all flowed towards this sole structure on this planet as if being called towards it. 

When the gondola reached the base of the mountain, its path was impeded by the canal snaking down into a crevasse that was both too low and too narrow for the boat to continue. Coming to a slow but solid stop, both Vrek and Keith stepped on to the sidewalk before them, and Vrek started to lead them down a narrow pathway.

In the distance, Keith could see the buzzing of activities and rides that would’ve signaled the fun and activity of a carnival. Lights oscillated, and the distant cheers of young Galra children could be heard. Regardless of the cultural differences, every species wanted some place for their young to enjoy themselves. “Is that where we’re going? Because fair warning: I will kick your ass at ski-ball.”

“It was. But... I thought that something else might be more appropriate.” Vrek stopped sharply, blocking Keith’s view of the festivities down the road, and instead offering his hand in a direction that pointed up towards the mountain.

Keith turned to see a large set of steps carved in the mountain itself. The black, almost volcanic looking cliffside had a path etched into it, one so natural looking that Keith would have walked past it without paying any heed to it if it hadn’t been drawn to his attention. The only indicator that such a path was even present was a single wooden lamp hanging from a pole next to the pathway. And yes, the lamp was indeed a lamp, made out of the same type of deep brown wood that must have been sourced from one of the many Imperial Oak trees that were lining the canal they had traveled down. 

Something about the simplicity of such primitive technology standing out against the vast metropolis of the city seemed to fill Keith with a sense of curiosity, bringing to light things that Keith had never before questioned. Ever since his fight against the Galra began, he had seen all of their bases and ships as cold, sterile things reflecting a cold and sterile people. Somehow, even when he had come to know the Blades, he had separated the Blades from the Galra: that they were somehow all _different_ , _better_ than, _apart_ from. Keith hadn’t ever really considered that the Galra themselves existed in a culture outside of the expansionist regime that Zarkon had established; that these were not all mindless, militaristic people, but that they too have a culture and a history long before this war had begun. 

_Vrek, thank you for bringing me here_. Keith leaned up to kiss his mate, stepping up on to his tippy-toes in order to plant a small peck on his cheek. 

“Don’t thank me yet-” Vrek brushed his nose against his mate’s: the most delicate of nuzzles to show his affection. “- we haven’t gotten there yet. And from what I gather, it’s quite a hike.”

“No, I mean... for bringing me _here_.” Keith started up the steps, skipping up the first few with a childlike energy and gesturing out towards the rest of the city with an outstretched hand. _Thank you for sharing your home with me._

Vrek ascended the stairs behind his mate, stopping just one shy of Keith so that Keith could turn to face his mate and be at eye-level. _It could be your home too, if you wanted. Our home._ Vrek placed his hands on Keith’s hips, and Keith placed his hands on Vrek’s shoulders. 

“Ask me again, when we’ve won the war. Okay?” Keith rested his forehead against his mate’s, happy enough to be breathing the same air as him. _We still have a lot of work to do._

The war with the Galra empire had been burning a fire across the galaxy for generations. It had begun long before Vrek had been born and would most likely continue long after he was dead. The chances were, that even if the war had been won, that many of these places would never again be the same. After defeating Zarkon, worlds like Karrahe would be lost and in ruin, the empire would be shattered, and there would need to be people who could pick up the broken pieces of society and place them back together. Peace seemed like an impossibility. But it was something to strive for. It was _worth_ striving for. For now, all he needed was Keith at his side, and that would be enough. They could find their happily ever after once the dust had settled and the fires had all burnt themselves out.

Now wasn’t the time for these kinds of thoughts. They were supposed to be enjoying themselves, so Vrek started up the stairs as fast as he could, trying to leave behind whatever doubts were plaguing his mind. _I’ll race you up to the top_.

 _You’ll lose_. Keith ran after him. 

\---

Racing each other up the side of the mountain was hopelessly naive. The hike was far too long, and by the time the two had stopped running, they were both out of breath and cursing their decision to challenge one another. 

“Alright, I take it back. I would rather be back on that fucking moon that trying to climb up this mountain.” Keith had his hands on his knees, and he was desperately trying to will air back into his lungs. 

Laughter would’ve surged through Vrek had he had the breath capable of doing so. Instead, he let out a pained “Hah,” as he too felt like he was about to die. “We should almost be there, and besides... isn’t the view worth it?”

Keith turned around to see what his mate was talking about, and sure enough- they had traveled high enough to see the city sprawled out beneath them. “That is… quite a view.”

Vrek’s vision focused on the profile of Keith’s face as his mate admired the city. _Yes, it is._

Each ridge that they had passed marked another victory over their exhaustion, but they were undeniably pressing their limits. For every bend they had passed and no end in sight, Keith groaned with exertion, to which Vrek always pushed back with, _We’re almost there_. When they had finally completed their hike, the two had scaled the first 300 meters of the mountain, and were still only approaching 1/10th the total size.

The small hut that they approached seemed unremarkable at first, the unassuming wooden structure framing a small doorway that seemed to grow out of the mountain itself. However, once the two entered the humble building, Keith’s expectations had to be drastically rewritten. The structure was built INTO the side of the mountain, with an enormous lobby that seemed to stretch 10 meters into the side of the cliff face. Everything was made out of wood -the floors, the walls, the ceilings- everything here exuded a natural presence that was entirely contrary to the rest of the city. 

A young Galra omega -one Vrek would assume would be approaching Keith’s age- was waiting for them in the lobby. The young Galra was very attractive but, stock-standard for what you might expect, looking very similar to Vrek in everything except size. “Sire, if you and your companion would please remove your footwear.”

Both Vrek and Keith complied, slipping their boots off and placing them against a small shelf that was seated next to the door. The young Galra wasn’t wearing anything like any of the others on this planet: everything was still styled in silver and grey, however, instead of a tight, form-fitting tunic, he wore a more traditional Galra robe that stretched down from the thighs and looped up around his shoulders much in the same way Kolivan’s uniform did. 

The Galra continued, “You placed reservations rather recently, correct? A private room for both you and your bond mate...?”

 _So that’s what you were doing on your tablet_. Keith raised a suspicious brow at his mate. This was quite literally a last-minute change in his plans. 

“That is correct. We don’t have any other place to be… so we’re not working around any time constraints.” Vrek answered for the two of them.

“I see, sire. When your bond mate gets here, I can explain our policies to you both.”

Keith almost didn’t catch that- but Vrek did. The remark hadn’t been malicious: the idea that someone on Karrahe would be bonded to someone as un-Galra seeming as Keith had genuinely not occurred to the young Galra attendant. Vrek restrained his response, he could still feel a growl rumble deep within his throat- but he prevented himself from baring his teeth and claws at the poor Galran omega, and that seemed like restraint enough. 

“ _This_ is my bond mate, kit.” Vrek slid one of his claws down to Keith’s shoulder, and in a dramatic display bordering on inappropriate (but highly necessary according to him), he pulled the collar of Keith’s shirt down far enough for the Galra attendant to see the bite mark across Keith’s scent gland.

The Galra flushed a deep indigo and he averted his eyes from the bond mark as if it were Keith’s pants that had been pulled down instead of his shirt. “My... my apologies, sire. Please forgive my ignorance. I did not mean to offend.” The now very embarrassed Galra then proceeded to rattle off a list of policies, clearly wanting nothing more than for this moment to end.

Keith could tell that Vrek was offended. But the Galra’s mistake had seemed innocent enough, and the Galra had been quick enough to apologize and offer recompense. After the two were led to a door to what was to be their own private room, the Galra asked if there was “anything that they could be offered in lieu of his transgression.”

Before Vrek could reject that Galra’s offer with outright dismissal, it was Keith that offered up, “Actually... a few chitkatin skewers would be great.”

The shock that had struck the Galra’s face was apparent, clearly not expecting that answer from Keith of all people. To his credit, he regained his composure rather quickly and replied with, “That should not be a problem at all, young sir.”

Once the Galra took his leave, Vrek’s constant rumbling of a low growl subsided. “That was insulting. I’m sorry about that, my love.”

Keith shrugged. “He’s bringing us food. It’s forgiven.”

The room that the two had been given was nothing short of incredible. The wooden floors arched up into gradual steps that looked like they led into a jacuzzi, except that the room didn’t end at the edge of the water. The back of the room had no wall, instead- the infinity-pool-esque end of the hot tub cascaded down the open mouth of a cave, creating a waterfall down into a much deeper pool located in the cavern adjacent to them.

“You had taken an interest in that well back there… so I thought that this might be better,” Vrek took one clawed finger, and pressed it up against Keith’s chin so that he could close his mouth for him. “Do you like it?”  
  
“Vrek… this is… incredible.” Keith couldn’t take his eyes off of the cave wall that seemed to dwarf their small little hot tub. The entire underground chamber glittered with shimmering gemstones that were littered throughout the foundations, before stretching upwards towards the sky higher than either of them could possibly see in this lighting. This was the inside of the mountain that they had been climbing. 

“It’s… not a tradition that’s frequented much any more, people are much more interested in other types of entertainment. But these springs are naturally heated from the planet’s magma. This is where all the water flows to from all across the planet.” Vrek unclasped the top of his tunic and pulled his shirt over his head. 

Keith immediately stopped admiring the architecture so that he could give his mate his undivided attention while he undressed. He watched Vrek’s arms lift the fabric above his head in a single, unbroken movement that allowed Keith to appreciate the ripples of muscle lining his mate’s backside. Vrek was… so gorgeous. His body was trained to be as sharp as his mind was, and the taut sinews of pure strength that Keith could see hiding beneath the lush purple fur left him utterly entranced. 

Vrek noticed that Keith was so intensely focused on him that he hadn’t even started undressing himself. _Do you need help, Keith?_

 _I might take it, if you offered_. Keith slipped out of his jacket, attempting to give his mate an equally entertaining show as the one he has just received, allowing Vrek the time to cross the distance between them so he could help undress his small, human mate. Vrek pulled Keith’s shirt up from his torso, and Keith raised his arms to help slide the fabric off. Once the bottom of the shirt had cleared Keith’s mouth, Vrek fisted the fabric tight in his hand and trapped his arms with the blindfold of his shirt. Keith was now forced to stand there, utterly helpless and at the whim of his alpha. Vrek leaned in to nip at his mate’s lips, giving hesitant little kisses to tease Keith.

Keith chased the kiss, desperately wanting to pull Vrek in to something deeper, so that they might sink into the depths of their desires with one another. But Vrek kept teasing, pulling back- only letting Keith taste his tongue for brief moments before pulling away to instead place his mouth alongside Keith’s throat. 

Then, Vrek pulled Keith’s shirt the rest of the way off his head, freeing his arms and once again allowing him to have control over his own body. 

Keith was left panting for breath, and the moment Vrek had relinquished control, he frantically worked to pull down the zipper that was seated against the front of Vrek’s pants. 

_Eager omega_. Vrek’s growl through their bond felt like velvet against Keith’s brain, and Keith actually _whined_ in response. 

A knock at the door pulled the two out of their intimacy, and they parted the second the door started to open. In an instant, the moment was gone. The Galra attendant had returned with their food. 

_What timing_. Keith grumbled against their bond.

Keith took the tray of skewers and set it down near the edge of the jacuzzi so that they could enjoy their snack while taking their dip in the finest form of relaxation that either had seen in decaphoebs. They were both hungry: they hadn’t eaten since breakfast and the journey up the mountain was an arduous one. 

Once the Galra attendant had left, the two finished undressing themselves, leaving their pants and undergarments on the floor and stepping into the heated spring. 

Keith dipped a toe into the near simmering water, and- once seeing he wouldn’t be burned from the temperature, proceeded to fully submerge one of his legs in the tub. _Just like a bandaid_. Keith stepped down into the jacuzzi and brought himself to a low crouch so that his entire body could soak in the delicious heat of the water. 

Vrek followed suit, dipping himself into water through gritted teeth and choked profanities. After the initial temperature shock had run its course, Vrek steadied himself on to the wooden ledge in the jacuzzi, sitting comfortably in the water. 

If either of them had any lingering doubts about the mysticism of Karrahe’s water, that skepticism was now gone. The soothing heat of the water felt like the tender caress of a lover massaging out all the tension that the two Blades held in their high-strung bodies. 

“Oh my god, Vrek. Just leave me here. Tell Kolivan I died in some pirate raid on the way back.” Keith sat against the edge of the small pool with his mate, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back against the ledge. 

The two very nearly could have fallen asleep like that, the healing water that they were bathing in seemed to ebb away any stress or doubts that might have been bouncing around inside of them. Here, they were just able to let go and let all of their worries float away with the water that was cascading down the side of the hot tub and into the cavern below. 

The aches in the bodies being mended, both Vrek and Keith turned their attention to the food that had been brought to them. The chitkatin wasn’t nearly as delectable as the ones the old man had provided them from his little stand (obviously), but it was delicious all the same, and no sooner had the two taken their first bites were they taking their last. 

Once the food was finished, Keith turned his back to his mate and rested his head atop his crossed arms as he gazed into the giant cave that their little room was connected to. “Is this all for us...?”

Vrek settled in behind his mate, taking the opportunity to knead his fingers into Keith’s shoulders. Keith had bottled up so many of his emotions for such a long time, that his entire body was full of constricted muscles that just needed to be relieved. Human physiology wasn’t _quite_ identical to a Galra’s, but Vrek had studied the latter thoroughly and was intimately familiar with the former, so he was sure that he could work out the differences with ease. “The whole cave? Well... I believe it’s just for our aesthetic enjoyment…”

Keith practically melted into Vrek’s fingers as his mate pressed trigger points in his shoulders in all the perfect places to make him fall apart in his embrace. “Oh good fucking god, baby. Please keep doing that.”

Letting out a small chuckle, Vrek continued his survey of the human body, letting his fingers do all the exploring necessary. “But if your question is whether or not we _can_ , then there is no physical barrier to stop us.”

His mate always knew how to cut straight to what he was thinking. “Well... I do see that pool down there, and from up here, that looks like quite a lot of fun.”

“I take you to a relaxing bath house, and the first thing you try to do is find someplace high to jump off of.” Vrek playfully smacked his mate’s side in between working in slow circles into the deep tissues of his shoulders. “This is why Kolivan yells at you, darling. You’re reckless.”

“Excuse me. You know you saw that pool down there and thought the same thing!” Keith turned his nose up at Vrek, as if insulted by the insinuation of his mate’s condescension. 

_How do I know that wasn’t just your thoughts, Keith?_ The presence they shared in their minds was omnipresent. 

_Well.... aren’t my thoughts your thoughts anyways?_

_Touché_. Vrek admitted in defeat. “Well... yes. Fine. The thought did cross my mind. But we haven’t really inspected the terrain yet, have we...?” Vrek leaned against his mate, and brought his chin to rest on Keith’s shoulder, allowing them to follow each other's eye-line as they surveyed the room around them. 

“Well, the walls here are wet, and the constant fall of water seems to have rounded out the more jagged edges. Climbing back up here doesn’t look like it’ll be much of a challenge.” Keith offered.

“Good. What else do you see?” Vrek placed a small kiss in the crook of Keith’s neck, right over where his teeth marks were permanently embedded into his mate’s scent gland. 

“Well... I’d say we’re about 10 meters from the surface of that water. So the water down there would have to be at least half that deep for it to be safe.”

“And can you tell from here?”

“You can’t take all the fun out of this, Vrek.” Keith’s tone was teasing, but his mate still had a point. 

“It does look like the black rock on the bank has been grinded down into sand. Meaning that if erosion here was serious enough to whittle down the stone that much, then it should be deep enough, darling.” Vrek pointed towards the black sand that the edges of the water were lapping at. 

That had been enough for Keith. 

Keith stepped up onto the ledge of their hot tub, and with a shout, flung himself off of the ledge and hurtling into the water below. Keith felt exhilarated; the feeling of sailing through the air reminded him of being in the pilot’s seat of one of the Voltron lions. Flying a Lion was very much like falling: he had taken the risk and decided to jump by his own volition, and the control that the Lion had been given over its own movements was as sure as gravity itself. He just had to let physics take their courses 

It took a few ticks for Keith to impact against the surface of the water with a _‘SPLASH’_. 

Vrek giggled at the impulsiveness of his mate. _Never change, darling_. Before following Keith’s lead and jumping off the side of the tub and plummeting into the depths below. 

The brief few seconds of weightlessness as Vrek fell seemed to drag on as he fell towards the watered bottom of the cave illuminated only by the shimmering of jewels around them. 

The water was still warm, but it wasn’t nearly approaching the temperature of the jacuzzi they had just left, and as such- it felt refreshingly cool. 

When Vrek has resurfaced from his dive, he found his mate’s eyes upon him, and everything was right with the world. 

The two had swam around each other for some time, dancing in the water as if entranced by each other’s movements. They dove down into the water to see if they could find the bottom of this pool (they couldn’t) and they explored the edges of the water to inspect all the diamond-like jewels that were encrusted into the cave wall. 

Finally, when their muscles began to ache with the strain of overuse once more, they drifted back to the small shore of black sand that lined the edge of the water closest to their private room. 

Vrek fell against the sand with a huff, his chest heaving from the activities as he laid with his back against the soft sand and stared up at the roof of the cave. From here, it seemed like stargazing: staring up at the void and only seeing a few twinkling glimmers of light in response. 

When Keith had decided to pitch himself ashore, he crawled up his mate’s body and dropped his head against Vrek’s chest, allowing the subtle rise and fall of his breathing to calm his own. 

A desire blossomed in Keith. They had been interrupted before. Surely, such interruptions wouldn’t find them now. Keith reached between their two bodies and grasped Vrek’s cock with his small hands, and slowly started to pump his fist up and down his mate’s length. 

Vrek let out a pleasured gasp when Keith’s hand closed around him. It wasn’t at all surprising, after all, Vrek’s own arousal was being spurred by the growing neediness of his mate. The slick being produced by the glands on his cock allowed Keith to slide his fist along him faster and faster with each passing tick- getting Vrek’s chest to start heaving in gasping breaths once more. Keith’s hands were magical, neither fully wrapping around his girth, but each working in tandem to squeeze pleasure out of him. 

The half-human hybrid worked his grip enthusiastically up and down his mate’s shaft. He had a lot of length to work with, and so Keith experimented with ways of pleasuring his mate. Vrek’s favorite, he had found, was when Keith alternated the direction that his hands were going: while one hand traveled upwards, the other traveled down, before they could go no further and returned to meet each other in the center of Vrek’s shaft once again. Vrek was melting. 

By now, Vrek’s cock was weeping with slick- allowing for Keith’s hands to glide their way up and down at an even brisker pace. Vrek was writhing and squirming under Keith’s efforts, his breath coming out in uneven gasps as he arched his back every time Keith teased him with the threat of stopping. Vrek was desperate to come, and was chasing every ounce of pleasure Keith would allow him to have. Keith’s grip enclosed around the base of Vrek’s dick, and slowly started to squeeze in soft pulses until he could feel the knot start to swell beneath his fingers. 

“Close...?” 

“Very.” Vrek’s toes curled as he clenched his teeth and braced himself for the orgasm that was sure to leave him a panting mess.

 _Now…_ Keith thought to himself. And that’s when he did _it_.

Vrek suddenly felt the warmth of his mate’s mouth sucking in just the tip of his cock right at the height of his pleasure. Vrek broke. He was unable to process anything beyond the tight wetness of Keith’s mouth and the mind-numbing bliss that was overwhelming all the other cognitive functions of his brain. “Omeeegaaaaa…” the words came out his mouth as a moan, nearly lost in translation as Vrek could barely form connections between words and their meanings in his brain. 

Keith swallowed his mate down hard, sucking the seed out of him. 

Vrek’s pale blue come filled Keith’s mouth like a reward, and Keith drank down every drop of it as if it were a fine wine. 

When Keith removed his mouth from the tip of Vrek’s dick and admired his handiwork. Vrek was indeed quite a mess: he was trembling and shivering in the afterglow of his climax. He was muttering something unintelligible, his speech was garbled and nothing resembling words were falling out of his mouth.

But Keith wasn’t done yet. 

Keith straddled his mate’s hips. Keith was dripping with so much slick that it pooled on Vrek’s legs when he sat up. He gave his mate’s knot a gentle squeeze... he was going to remain hard and inflated for at least another ten minutes. That was enough time. Angling his hips down, Keith sank himself down onto Vrek’s still-hard and very over sensitive cock. 

“Pleaoooahhahhhhahhhgggfff” was all Vrek could manage in response, as Keith impaled himself on his bond mate’s cock. “Keith... wh... wh...” Vrek could only gasp and arch his back against the sand and his lover: he was trapped. The sensations were too much. It was as if all the nerve endings in his body had shorted out and all the feeling his brain could possibly comprehend was focused on where the two were joined. 

Keith had taken Vrek down to the knot, unable to find the force that would be required to tie himself with his mate. He didn’t have the energy or the momentum for another brutal knot-fucking session, but that wouldn’t be necessary. Keith rocked his hips back and forth as he grinded down against the thick expanse of Vrek’s throbbing knot, and just allowed himself to bask in the gentleness of feeling his mate filling his core. Keith made a fist with his hand around his own dick, and started to ease himself forward into his hand, and backwards against his mate’s knot- the feeling was heaven, and he surely wouldn’t last long under conditions like this. 

Vrek was beyond the realm of understanding. At this point, he was merely a victim at the merciful whim of his mate. He didn’t possibly think Keith could get him to finish again… but he had known better than to doubt the capabilities of the Red Paladin.

Keith’s pace began to quicken as he started to jolt forward, fucking his own fist with abandon before grinding back against Vrek’s knot with a mighty need. If Vrek didn’t know any better, he would have thought that his mate had actually wanted to feel the bitch-breaking desire of his knot filling him again. “Fuck, Alpha!” Keith gasped as he shook with his own orgasm, painting Vrek’s furred chest with the splatter of his own white seed. 

Trembling in the aftermath of his own receding climax, Keith’s muscles tensed around Vrek’s length. In the throes of his passion, he had actually tried to unsuccessfully force Vrek’s knot inside of him. It didn’t work. Fine. But Keith was determined to get his mate to come again. Keith leaned back as best he could, relying on his core muscles to support him as his hands disappeared behind his back. With one hand, Keith wrapped his fingers around the base of Vrek’s cock, behind his knot. With the other hand, Keith slid two fingers into Vrek’s eager slit.

Vrek sucked in a shocked breath and held it. 

The orgasm that was milked out of him was almost painful. He had already given Keith everything he had, and he didn’t think he would be able to give anything else while still knotted. The groan of pleasure that escaped Vrek when he finally let his breath escape him was almost a half-scream as he lifted his hips off the ground and wrapped his own claws around Keith’s slender hips. 

With one solid pull combined with a single isolated thrust, Vrek was able to shove his knot into his mate. 

_Theeeeeere we go_. The more animalistic part of Vrek’s lust addled brain thought. He was hilted inside of his mate. Exactly where he was meant to be. 

Keith fell against Vrek’s chest at that point, burying his nose in the plush feeling of his mate’s fur and inhaling the rich alpha scent. 

“Alpha…” Keith sighed with all the contentedness one might expect after having been thoroughly fucked. 

“Omega...” Vrek answered back.

Once the two of them could breathe normally again -their baser desires satiated- and found the courage to untie themselves, they climbed their way back up to their hot tub, and finally allowed themselves to relax.

They stayed in that jacuzzi until the staff told them that they had to close for the night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Artist Credit: @eeniiart on Twitter
> 
> Next up, Chapter 6: The Cracks Begin to Show
> 
> WHEW. Okay- this chapter was... a bit rough for me to finish. Hopefully the trouble it put me through isn't apparent in the writing, but this one was really difficult for me to lock down. Eventually, I had to stop, write future chapters, and then come back to it... apparently writing fluff and happiness are not among my strengths. Regardless, let me know if YOU enjoyed reading this chapter! Hopefully it wasn't boring to any of you out there, and hearing that people enjoyed it would really lift my spirits. xD
> 
> Honestly, what really pushed me to power through this chapter was seeing Eenii's artwork for it. Her work is wonderful and it was really, really nice seeing Keith and Vrek just smile together.
> 
> ANYWAYS. A home, how does that sound for the two of them?


	6. The Cracks Begin to Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pristine exterior of Karrahe hides a more insidious nature. Their welcome now well-worn, both Keith and Vrek attempt to salvage what remains of their vacation.

Keith couldn’t remember the last time he was able to let himself truly relax. Sure, there had been down time between assignments, private moments that he would steal with his mate in the sanctity of their nest, but that time was always just a brief break of happiness before they had to return to the grim reality of war. 

Life hadn’t been fair to Keith.

His father was a firefighter, and had left for work one day and never returned. Keith had loved his father, and had regretted not treating every moment he had with his dad like it _could_ have been his last. The last time he had waved goodbye to his father, it had been unceremonious: he stood in the doorway while his dad left. By the time Keith had realized that his father was dead, he had wished he could turn back time just enough to _hug_ him goodbye, and to _tell_ him that he loved him and that he knew that he did the best he could.

After that, survival had become a battle. Between School and the Garrison: Keith met all of his problems with raised fists and a bad attitude. 

Leaving Earth made everything simpler. Everything had been black and white, and he could see in black and white. Years of trying to punch all of his problems had rewarded him with an iron will and the ability to hold his own in a fight. His life had become exactly what he had thought he wanted it to be: an endless stream of fistfights in which he would have the upper hand. The Paladins became his family, and Voltron became his life.

When that had changed, and he was forced to _lead-_ he hesitated. He couldn’t be a leader. For so long, all he had cared about was himself: he couldn’t suddenly reforge his anger and aggression into something more precise. He wasn’t Shiro. 

When Voltron had made the insidious shift from being a weapon to being a mere propaganda icon, Keith couldn’t stand it, and so he busied himself with the Blades, and once again, his life was reduced to an endless stream of fistfights. He was comfortable with that. 

Vrek had turned his life upside-down. Now, Keith had something to fight _for_ , something to lose, and a future to be gained. Each punch that was now thrown no longer felt like random flailing in a rage fueled frenzy, because now every punch carried with it his dreams for a future.

And so, Karrahe had been a gift: a small glimpse into a future where he could live his life with his mate unburdened by the thoughts of war. It had been a pleasant dream, and Keith had finally allowed himself to relax.

But we all wake from our dreams eventually. 

\---

The couple’s second official day on Karrahe started without incident.

Upon Ilun’s recommendation, the two had traveled to the ‘ _Karrahe Museum of Liberation and Colonization_ ’- a name that Vrek had winced at when he purchased them both entry tickets. When Keith had asked where they would be headed for the day, Vrek shortened the name to just the ‘Karrahe Museum’, knowing that his mate would still struggle with the Galran alphabet and would be none the wiser.

Initially, the idea of going to a museum was met with some resistance. Keith had huffed and pouted and exclaimed to his mate “Vrek, I didn’t travel billions of lightyears to be bored in some museum.” But nonetheless, he had followed his mate.

The museum’s garden was a marvel. Somehow, they had been able to sustain an entire preserve filled with a multitude of different species of flowers, trees, and other plant life. Trees of every color surrounded the entire enclosure, and pathways through the green grass were accented with an assortment of flowers that neither Vrek nor Keith could identify. The amount of colors that were present was nearly indescribable. Greens danced around leaves before being met with teals, reds, and whites. Red bark was just as common as brown and some of the wildlife had even seemed to glow as if the neon lights of the city had been inserted inside of the greenery. It was incredible to think that so many forms of life from across the universe could possibly exist in harmony with each other. 

The two had caught the tail end of a tour that was being guided through the park, hearing the guide casually mention statistics like _“Plant life here has been collected from every world the Galra have visited since the colonization of Karrahe”_ , _“The ecosystem that we’ve created here is unlike any other in the galaxy, and we take the utmost pride in ensuring that all of our plant life is healthy”_ , and _“there is no cross-pollination of any kind. We do not condone the mixing of different species of plants and do not want to be responsible for nurturing any kind of hybridization.”_

The two bond mates sat down and laid back in the grass somewhere under the familiar shade of Olkarion leaves, and spent the afternoon gazing up at the orange sky. 

When hunger had finally forced the two out of their comfortable spot, they took a late lunch at the cafe in the center of the garden, and enjoyed some tea and pastries before getting up and heading towards the exit.

Before they had been able to make it through the exit gates of the museum, an advertisement had caught their attention. 

BEHOLD! THE DEFENDER OF THE UNIVERSE! THE LEGENDARY VOLTRON: THE EXHIBIT

The words had taken Vrek off-guard. He wouldn’t have expected to have seen any mention of Voltron this deep in the safety of the Empire. 

Keith didn’t have to read the Galran text, the profile of the giant, multicolored robot was enough to give away what the exhibit was.

Keith tugged Vrek back towards where the advertisement was pointing, and ushered him towards the indoor portions of the museum. 

“Come on! Let’s see what they said about me!” Keith had said. The bounce in his step was visible as he quickly outpaced Vrek’s strides and would leave his side to almost _skip_ towards the end of each hall. Calling back towards his mate to _“hurry up”_. With each passing corridor, Keith’s excitement grew and grew, until the two were finally standing in the doorway to a vast room that was littered with models, exhibits, and holograms that all paid homage to the legendary defender. 

Keith yanked Vrek over to the nearest display, almost giving his mate whiplash in the process. 

The scale model of the Red Lion was impressive. It was enormous and finely detailed, with countless hours clearly having been poured into the production of such a model.

“You haven’t met Red...” Keith had started, pointing to the giant lion as it rotated in its display.

 _No... the last time you had brought your lion to our base, it nearly vaporized me_. Vrek thought out through their bond, recalling the time that the lion had attempted to destroy the base in order to get to it’s paladin. Vrek’s trauma was met with a casual dismissal from his mate.

“... fine, so he’s a little protective.” Keith actually rolled his eyes at Vrek. “But he’s always been there for me. Before you... he was the only one who had never abandoned me. Never let me down. He was always there when I needed him most.” Keith was beaming with pride as he stared at the display.

Vrek smiled and blushed at the notion that his mate had literally placed him on the same pedestal as a Voltron lion. His mate hadn’t even realized how significant of a compliment he had just offhandedly given to Vrek.

Keith had spent the time pouring over every small detail of the lion with Vrek: pointing out all of the minute details about how Red would handle, attack, and growl in the back of his mind. Keith recalled the time he had met the Red Lion: it was aboard Sendak’s ship, and the team had split up to try to distract and infiltrate the ship to give Keith the opportunity to bond with the Red Lion as it’s paladin. He talked with such excitement about the rumbling he felt when it had summoned him; he spoke of the doubt that he had when he didn’t open his shields for him. How he had to fend off five Galra sentries before jettisoning them all out into space. How he was certain that he was going to be lost in the void, until the Red Lion had appeared and literally _swallowed_ him.

The mission that Keith was describing seemed impossible: the odds of success seemed incalculable, and coming from anyone else, Vrek would have assumed that the details would have been exaggerated if not fabricated entirely. But this was Keith. Keith could do the impossible. Vrek would never stop being amazed by him.

Keith pulled his mate from exhibit to exhibit, explaining to Vrek all the little intricacies of the Paladin armor, the Bayard, and how Voltron is formed. When the pair had reached the center of the room, where one might have assumed a centerpiece statue of Voltron would be, both Blades were confronted instead with a heroic statue… of Zarkon.

Keith scowled at the statue, hoping that wherever the real Zarkon was, that he might be able to burn under indignation of Keith’s gaze. It burned Keith up inside seeing Zarkon, the very malevolence that Voltron was fighting _against_ , standing proud amongst _his_ lions.

Vrek took his mate’s hand, giving him a gentle squeeze to remind him of his presence. He wasn’t in this fight alone, and there were countless others that would echo his sentiments upon seeing Zarkon standing proud amidst a Voltron display.

Keith gestured to the holographic text projected next to the statue. “What’s it say?”

The dour mood that befell Vrek felt like pouring a bucket of ice water over a smoldering fire, and soon, the simmering anger that was sparked within the two Blades was replaced by the nauseous feeling of repugnance. “You don’t want to hear what it says, darling.”

“Oh- ho-ho- I really do.” Keith’s words were bitten off like he had been aiming to start a fight with someone, even if that someone was just a statue. 

Vrek cleared his throat, his grip on Keith’s hand tightening as he spoke. “Voltron was created on the Galra homeworld of Daibazaal...”

 _Wrong_. Keith’s eyes narrowed in disdain. 

“...built by the glorious mind of our Emperor Zarkon...”

 _Wrong._ He would find whoever wrote this inscription.

“...to be a symbol of Galra strength throughout the galaxy...”

 _Wrong_. And he would hurt them. 

“My love, I know you have your objections but do you want me to read this or not...?” Vrek leaned down to kiss Keith’s cheek, as if that could help quell the bitterness that his mate was oozing.

It could. 

“Fine. Continue.”

Vrek moved his arm to wrap around his mate’s waist, and he pulled Keith close against his side. If nothing else, it would fill his omega’s nose with his scent and help prevent his mate from stabbing the first museum curator he happened across. 

“Zarkon piloted Voltron in order to usher in a new era of peace throughout the Galra Empire. However, a small faction of terrorists banded together out of jealousy for our Empire’s newfound prosperity and, in an act of great malice, destroyed our homeworld of Daibazaal.” Vrek continued, “Our Emperor was resented by his closest allies, and in a plot to betray him: Voltron was lost. Recent sightings of Voltron fighting against Galra forces have proved the theory that this corrupted Voltron was appropriated by rebel forces intent on destroying all that the Galra Empire has built for itself. But do not despair fellow citizens: our venerable Emperor is fighting to restore Voltron’s beautiful Galra visage, so that Voltron may once again fight for peace and the glory of the Galra Empire.”

Keith was trembling with rage. He was _pissed_ . Their entire struggle against the tyranny of the empire was reduced into a mere equation of power-hungry, jealous terrorists? _Is this how the Galra in the empire sees them? Is this how they see us?_ Keith’s anger bled through their bond, and Vrek could do nothing to stop it.

“It isn’t fair!” Keith’s voice carried a little more than he intended it to. “ _You_ betrayed them! _YOU_ were corrupted by what you couldn’t control and _YOU_ betrayed your friends. Your _friends_. How could you?” Keith pointed an accusatory finger at the unmoving statue before him.

“Keith!” Vrek placed his hands on his mate’s face, and forced Keith’s vision away from the statue and into his eyes. “We should go.” Vrek took Keith’s hand and led them towards the entrance. 

The entire hall had fallen silent, and Keith was led out of the hall like a parent dragging a misbehaving child away from their friends. 

Keith’s outburst had attracted attention. Unwanted attention. The Galra before them parted as Vrek led them out. Surely, it wouldn’t be much of an issue to confront museum security -not when the two of them have taken down hordes of battle-hardened Galra soldiers- but it was a confrontation that Vrek would want to avoid altogether. 

It was then that Keith began to notice the staring. Mothers shielded their children from him. Adults shot him piercing looks of confusion and anger. 

The two left as hastily as they could.

\---

The stares didn’t stop. 

Long after they had traveled away from the museum, everywhere Keith would turn, he found himself under the scrutiny of watchful Galra eyes. There were some kind of law-enforcement officers lining every street corner -clad in fabric only versions of what resembled a typical Galra soldier’s battle armor- had they always been there? Or was Keith just now noticing them?

He hadn’t done anything wrong, and yet- he felt like their judgement had already condemned him for whatever crime they might have thought he had committed. 

Vrek’s arm was wrapped tightly around Keith’s shoulder, leading him back through the streets of Karrahe.

Keith shoved his hands in both of his jacket pockets, and stared back at his accusers until they were the first to break eye-contact. He had endured more than this throughout his life- but he still hated being the center of attention. _It’s the clothes I’m wearing_ , he thought to himself, cursing himself for wearing the baggy, loose brown clothing that was meant for him to blend in to a trading outpost on the outskirts of civilization. _It must be the clothes_. 

“Vrek...?” 

Vrek’s ears perked up at the mention of his name, and all the hostility that he was holding in his face evaporated as he stopped to look down at Keith. “Yes, my love...?”

“Can we... can we get me different clothes? I feel like I’m sticking out like a sore thumb.” Keith pressed his face against Vrek’s silver tunic, hiding his face from the stares that were whittling away at him.

“Of course, Keith.”

The two made their way across town to what had appeared to be a shopping district of sorts, passing a plethora of clothing stores until Vrek had led Keith to one very specific store that Keith would correctly assume was Vrek’s favorite place to shop. Unfortunately, everything in the store was three-sizes too large for Keith, and upon inquiring with an employee of the store, they confirmed that they did not have anything even approaching what would be necessary for someone of Keith’s size. The attendant had helpfully recommended the pair to a _children’s_ clothing store down the street that might provide better options. 

“ _Excuse_ me? I am not a kid!” Keith made his complaints well known, and Vrek had to hold his ferocious little mate back by the shoulders before he could berate the poor store employee. 

Vrek thanked the employee before leading his pouting mate out in the direction of the store that was recommended to them. 

At first, Keith had refused to go inside of the ‘ _kid’s store_ ’- saying that he wouldn’t stoop that low. But after some gentle coaxing from his mate, Keith finally relented, and with some grumbling, entered the store with Vrek.

Keith was glad that he had relented. The store did indeed have clothing that seemed more size appropriate. One side of the store was lined with nothing but silver and grey; the other, silver and grey with slightly more variations of color. 

“Is one side of the store for boys and the other for girls?” Keith asked his mate.

“If I say yes, will that dissuade you from picking out what you like...?”

Keith chewed his lip and considered it for a second. He wanted to blend in, yes- but being devoid of any form of color had seemed so boring to him. Keith wore his red jacket specifically because it stood out amongst a crowd... it was a color he liked, so what if it was obnoxiously bright to some? He supposed that not many men back on Earth would have worn the same high-cut jacket he did, not when it had been harkened to that of a girl’s crop top on more than one occasion. Labels wouldn’t matter to him. He would find something that he liked. 

It took some browsing, but Keith eventually found something that he loved. The tunic was a mixture of some type of velvet and silk: it shimmered a deep burgundy in the light and was lined with a thick silver trim around each seam. The pants had the same design, but with a flipped palette, with the silver being accented by shades of red lining the outside of the pants. The clothes were in fact meant for a female galra, and so the fabric seemed to cling to Keith in all the right places, with the thinness of Keith’s narrow hips sliding perfectly into the outfit. 

“That suits you.” Vrek commented, and the beaming smile that he received from his mate was entirely worth the trek across town to the shopping district.

Vrek bought two pairs of the same outfit for Keith, and Keith changed into his new clothes and slung the shopping bag that was given to him over his shoulder with a joyful glee as the two left the store.

The stares that Keith received didn’t stop, but Keith was too happy to notice them. He felt better about himself now, and that piece of mind is really what had mattered to Vrek.

The pair had a light dinner of some assortment of soups at a sit-down restaurant that seemed small and unbelonging to the crowd of upscale outlets that surrounded it. It was delicious, and clearly a favorite of Vrek’s. 

After dinner, Vrek led Keith further into the city. Keith could feel Vrek’s excitement bubbling up in him as if he were a dam barely containing the rushing flow of the rapids that were his enthusiasm. The further down the street that the two travelled, the more excited he could feel Vrek get. Once it felt like Vrek’s heart was about to explode out of his chest, he stopped and hurried Keith into a small store that seemed to sell only the most exuberant jewelry.

There was but a single other occupant in the jewelry store: a middle aged Galra that seemed larger than any of the others Keith had seen on Karrahe, not in terms of stature, but in terms of… weight. The Galra was clearly used to working at a desk, and had profited from years of excess and inactivity. He must have been the owner of the shop. 

Keith couldn’t fathom why Vrek had led them both here; all the gemstones and bangles of gold and silver seemed excessive to Keith, and if Vrek were to ask him to choose something, Keith would be at a total loss. 

“Greetings, sir. I have an order to claim. It will be under the name Cyrik.”

Keith looked up at his mate, dumbfounded. _Order? Vrek, what did you do?_

Vrek ignored his mate’s inquiries and returned his thoughts with a simple, _you’ll see._

The Galra man behind the counter lit up as if he had struck gold. “Ah! You’re the young man with the pair of bond bracelets! You placed that order over a phoeb ago! I was beginning to think that you had forgotten.”

“Not forgotten. Just been off-world.” Vrek replied as the Galra man disappeared into some back room, momentarily out of sight of the two Blades. 

Keith raised a curious eyebrow at Vrek. “So how long have you been planning this...?”

“Since that rut. Once my brain had been able to function normally again, I placed an order here.” Vrek smiled back at his mate, a small wave of embarrassment shining through him for having placed such a substantial order so quickly after the two had completed their bonding. 

“So what is a bond bracelet...?” Keith eyed the other displays around them with an investigative fervor, not seeing anything that could’ve matched whatever mental picture he held in his head. 

“No, no. You won’t see anything like that out here. Bond bracelets are made custom for the pair that needs them. It’s… a memento. Something to remind ourselves of our presence for each other; and something to show the world that we are together.”

“So... kind of like a wedding ring...?” Keith asked. “Are you going to get down on a knee to give it to me...?”

“I can if you would like, darling.” Vrek ducked down to place a quick peck on his mate’s cheek before the shop owner returned. 

The owner brandished a small wooden box, placing it on the glass counter that separated him from the couple. “Okay, Cyrik...” he began. “I’m going to be honest with you... I’ve created a lot of bond bracelets in my day. These might be the finest I’ve ever crafted.”

It seemed to be a practiced lie, and one that Vrek was sure the jeweler told all of his customers. But when Vrek laid his eyes on the work that the jeweler had done, he would be remiss to think that the jeweler was being honest with them. Everything was _perfect_.

The Galra opened the box for Vrek to inspect his work. The bracelets were gorgeous, and not at all what Keith had been expecting given the other examples of Galran jewelry that the shop had provided. Keith would liken it to the simplicity of a friendship bracelet, but with an obviously refined elegance: strings of fabric bound together in an intricate pattern that weaved its way around a single, larger metallic-looking cord. The large, metallic cord shined with an illuminating silver, and was wrapped in a gorgeous combination of blacks and purples. 

The Galra jeweler picked up one of the bands and held it up in front of the pair. “Triple dipped in liquid Karradite for the centerpiece: a bond unbreakable, wrapped in single dipped Karradite fibers, accented by ‘purple as bright as blood’... as you had requested.”

“Thank you. It... they... they’re more beautiful than I could have predicted. What do you think, Keith?” Vrek looked over and searched for Keith’s approval. 

“Yeah… they’re nice. Really nice.” Was all he could say. Words may not always have been his strong suit, but Keith did mean what he said. The bracelets were gorgeous. 

The jeweler placed the singular bracelet back into its box. “Well... if that’s all you need, I can ring you up for this purchase and pack this up for your valet here.” He stated, gesturing to Keith, who still had his bag of clothes slung over his shoulder. “I’m sure your missus will be quite happy with these.”

Keith’s offense at being called a valet made him less upset than it did irritate him. _This shit again._

Vrek leisurely wrapped an arm around Keith’s shoulder and tucked Keith up against his side before correcting the Galra. “ _This_ is my bond mate. The bracelet will be for _him_.”

The Galra jeweler’s expression soured as he looked from Vrek, to Keith, and then back to Vrek, as if searching for an answer he couldn’t quite verbalize.

“Then there is no sale.”

“I’m sorry...?” Vrek squinted at the man, taken aback by the man’s comments.

“You heard me. You have no business here. A bond mate is a sacred Galra tradition, and one whose sanctity I will not tread upon for the sake of your _fling_.” The man spat the final word as if trying to rid his mouth of some rotten taste. 

Before Vrek could say anything, it was Keith who had unzipped the top of his tunic to expose the bite mark against his scent gland. “I _am_ Galra. Half, but that still counts. And we _are_ bonded.”

This seemed to only enrage the man further, slamming the small wooden box shut and taking it off of the counter between them. He turned his focus away from the hybrid and addressed Vrek as if Keith were invisible. “ _You_... look at you. You’re so normal. So ordinary...”

 _‘BANG’_. The first slam was Keith pounding his fist on the counter between them. “Do _NOT_ call my mate ordinary.”

The Galra ignored him. “You seem like the prime example of a Galran male. Such a _shame_ to see you mixing the purity of your bloodline.”

A growl started to rumble throughout Vrek’s entire being, and Keith could feel it. There was a string being wound tight deep inside of Vrek’s heart: it was taut, it was straining, and it was about to snap and destroy Vrek’s usually tranquil exterior. 

“So get out of my shop...” the Galra continued, and if he had any sense at all, he would’ve noticed that he was dancing upon thin ice- seeing the righteous fury of an overprotective Alpha about to bear down on him. “... and take your disgusting little alien _pet_ with you.”

 _‘BANG’_. The second slam was the Galra man’s face being slammed down against the counter. The movement had happened faster than Keith could even register, but Vrek’s claws were now wrapped solidly around the back of the Galran man’s neck, and he was holding his face down against the glass countertop. 

“ _What_ did you say about my _bond mate_...?” Vrek had brought his mouth inches away from the jeweler’s ear. Speaking at a whisper through the rabid snarls he was making.

Fear was clearly eating it’s way through the jewelers spine as the realization of his situation dawned on him. Beginning to panic, he threatened Vrek instead. “I... I’ll call the Imperial Enforcers! You’ll be arrested!”

Not releasing his stranglehold on the back of the man’s neck, Vrek placed one of his claws on the glass counter in front of the man’s face, making a point of scratching into the glass as if to demonstrate how sharp they were. “And do you think they would get here in time to stop me…?”

“I’m sorry,” the man sputtered out. He was nearly pissing himself.

“ _Louder…_ ” Vrek growled, his claw scratching lines into the counter inches away from the man’s eyes. 

“I said I’m sorry! I’ll sell you the bracelets!” 

Vrek snapped his jaws near the man’s ears as if he were a feral animal. He didn’t even want to buy them anymore, the sentimentality of the bracelets would be tainted by the memory of this bigotry. He had wanted something nice for his mate. He had wanted to give him something physical to carry the weight of their bond. And all of that was now ruined thanks to this Galra. 

“I- I’ll give them to you! You can have them! Free of charge!” The man was begging, groveling. It was sad.

Vrek could feel his grip on the back of the man’s neck tighten. The soft skin of the Galra broke as Vrek’s claws started to prick little bloody holes in the man’s neck. He wanted to kill this man. He really did. He had _ruined_ something that was supposed to be special for his mate. 

Suddenly, the anger in him started to ebb away like a receding tide. Keith’s hands were on his waist, and his thoughts were in his mind, bringing him down from his savagery and back to him. 

_Let’s go. It’s not worth it. Bring me back to the apartment and hold me._

Vrek eased his grip on the man’s neck, before backing away from the counter and wrapping both of his arms around Keith. _My Omega._

 _We should go. Now_. Keith started to pull Vrek in the direction of the door. The Galra man was still face-down on the counter, afraid to move as if even a single, startling gesture would’ve convinced Vrek to kill him. The two took their opportunity to slip out of the shop and head back home.

\---

It was hard not to think that their vacation had been ruined after that.

The two returned to their apartment, with even the pleasant memories that they had formed here on Karrahe tainted by the display that had just occurred. Vrek tried to convince Keith that the unpleasantness of the jeweler that they had dealt with shouldn’t sully the experience that they’ve had so far. But it was hard for Keith to look back on their vacation and see anything but the odd stares and condescension that he was presented with from the minute that the couple had faced when trying to book passage to Karrahe in the first place. 

The two turned in early, and held each other in their bed until sleep came for them.

\---

Vrek woke a few hours before dawn. 

Typically, when he slept next to his mate- he slept soundly. But in light of recent events, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had done wrong by his mate in bringing him here. He wanted to fix this. Vrek buried his face against the shoulder of his mate, pressing his nose against the mess of silk black hair that framed Keith’s face perfectly and basked in the scent of his omega. After a varga of being unable to will himself back to sleep, Vrek decided to get up.

After pulling on his silver shirt and pants, Vrek stepped back out into the streets of Karrahe. It was an odd hour for the city: the nightlife had all but subsided and the dawn had not yet roused everyone from their slumber. 

Walking always helped Vrek to clear his mind. There have been a few points in his life where he had been rudderless: drifting without direction in a sea of uncertainty. When his mind had been as lost as his heart, he had gone on walks- and the walks had helped to remind him that whatever happened, he would always be moving forward. Towards _something_. No matter what that something would be, it was always better than where he had been. As it turns out, that _something_ that he had been moving towards all his life was Keith, and framing all the struggles in his life within that context: he knew that he would be okay.

He found himself lost in his thoughts when he was called out to by a voice proclaiming “Little Doctor!” The old man was cleaning up his cart, preparing to pack up and return home for the evening.

Vrek wandered over to the small cart, and by the time he had planted himself in a seat, the old man had already poured him a stiff drink. “You look like you could use this…” He offered, before pouring himself a glass and sitting beside Vrek.

Tilting back the small glass and letting the brain-cell-killing liquid burn down his throat, Vrek asked. “Has it… has it always been like this...?”

The old man took a look at the content of his glass. “The Ryncal? I admit it may be a little flat... but it still gets the job done…”

“No... I mean… Karrahe. Has it always been… like _this_? Or have things changed while I’ve been away?”

The old man considered the question. “Someone finally say something about your little Earth-mate?” The word _human_ having escaped his memory.

Vrek nodded slowly. “Looking back. I suppose I can’t feel that surprised. Ever since we came here, we’ve been getting looks, sneers, and questions. All it took was one person without any decorum and I snapped.” Vrek’s cup was refilled the moment it had been emptied. “I was trying to buy a bond bracelet… and the man just… refused. He insulted Keith.”

The old man clapped him on the back and responded with a hearty laughter. “‘Atta boy! You break his nose?”

“No I... I scared him pretty good, though.”

“Damn shame. Tell me his address, and I’ll go break it for you.”

Vrek laughed. It was reassuring to see that at least some of his people had respect. “What made you so kind, old man?”

The question had caught him off guard. The old man paused, taking a few sips of his drink before finding the right words. “Pain.” He started. “Pain humbles us all. Loss. Guilt. Regret. Physical pain, even. You travel from one side of this galaxy to the other... you meet species unheard of. You fight them, you bleed with them, and if you’re lucky... you get to make peace with them. Regardless of their size, their color, their beliefs... every species feels pain. It’s the common denominator we have with all living beings.”

“So many people here can’t seem to look at us and just… accept us.”

“No. And some people won’t. Some people can’t. Some people are just prisoners to their own narrow-mindedness. And nothing you do can change that.”

“So…” Vrek thought, almost grimly, that this place might never feel like home again. “... Can this place never change?”

The old man took a deep breath. “That’s tough to say. It might. Or it might not. Maybe one day, but we might not be alive to see it. I’ve got something for you...” The old man stood up and walked behind his cart and fetched a small paper box for Vrek. “I doubt any other jeweler will sell a bond bracelet to you, so... here’s a starting point.”

Vrek eyed the box curiously before opening it up. Inside were two thick strands of metallic black fiber, the core cord salvaged from bond bracelets, both glimmering in the light and glowing like the midnight sky. The metal reminded Vrek of the shimmering Luxite that the blades wielded: the black iridescent in color and the shiny telltale silver of Karradite shining through the darkness. This had to be some sort of new compound. 

“I met my bond mate when I was in the empire.” The old man continued. “She was Galra, but her planet attempted to gain its own independence from the empire. For a long time, her people were looked down upon as traitors, but... it made no difference to me. I loved her. She brought out the best parts of me... parts that I didn’t know existed. We dipped these strands in a combination of Karradite and some ore from her world and what would you know...? It’s stronger because of it. We’ll always be stronger together than we are apart from each other, little Doctor.”

Vrek didn’t know what to say... as a gift, this was the most precious thing that anyone could give to someone. This was more than just a memento: this was their _life_. “I... I don’t know if I can accept this...”

“You’d be insulting her memory if you refused,” the old man grinned, as if he knew that that would back Vrek into a corner and force him to accept it. “I don’t know what you’ve been doing or how you met your bond mate-”

Vrek was about to interject with his cover story again, but was stopped by the old man reaching his hand across the table, planting it on his shoulder.

“- you know someone as long as I’ve known you, and you can tell when they’re lying. That’s fine. If you can’t tell me, I don’t need to know. You have your reasons. What I know is that you are a good person. This galaxy has enough soldiers and fighters... it doesn’t have enough people to heal it. If anyone is going to make this world better, it’ll be people like you, Vrek.”

“Thank you. Thank you… well… for a lot.” Vrek smiled up at the old man. For whatever bigotry he had to put up with for being home, this old man’s kindness made up for a lot of it. 

Vrek and the old man said their goodbyes, and Vrek told him that he legitimately didn’t know _when_ he would return to Karrahe again. To which the old man just smiled and replied _“Then I’ll be waiting.”_

Vrek stopped by a fabric store before returning to the apartment. He had some work to do before Keith woke up.

\---

The next morning passed without much fanfare. The two had had enough of what the outside world had to offer and instead just resorted to lounging in their apartment, watching ‘ _Boh-Be-Bu Boo-Bee-Bii_ ’ on the holoscreen, and ordering take out for breakfast.

By the time the early afternoon started to roll around, Vrek’s tablet blipped with a new message. Vrek opened the message and tried to hide his distress from his mate. 

**[I saw that you tried to order a bond bracelet. If you’re seeing someone, I would love to meet her. I miss you. -Mom]**

“You should talk to her.” Keith said, while rubbing the back of his head against Vrek’s shoulder as if he were a cat seeking affection. 

“I’m afraid that if I do... that it’ll be the last time I’ll ever speak with her.” Vrek sighed. He wouldn’t be able to lie to his mother, even if it were for her own good. “In any case, get dressed. We’re going out.” Vrek poked his mate in his side, right where he knew Keith was ticklish. 

“Ugh. Outsiiiiiiide? Fine. But this had better be good.” Keith dragged himself off of the couch and shuffled his feet back to the bedroom to dress himself.

\---

The two boarded the monorail, and took the train straight out _away_ from the city center.

 _Strange. We’ve never been this way before_. Keith eyed his mate, trying to figure out what he had been plotting. 

_This will be better than yesterday._ _I promise_. Vrek leaned down to nuzzle his mate, keenly aware of all the eyes that were glued to their public display of affection. He pulled Keith in close after that, smashing Keith’s face against his chest so his mate wouldn’t have to see him glare at all the other Galra who had been openly leering at them.

When they had approached the literal last stop on the train, they disembarked to be met with a more rural area than they had previously seen on Karrahe. They were on the outskirts of the city and, opposite the direction of the looming mountain that somehow seemed even larger at a distance than it did up close- was a vast, open stretch of salt flats uninterrupted by buildings or people. 

Vrek led Keith to a small stand amongst a large parking lot. Airspeeders and ground vehicles were littered amongst the pavement along with… hoverbikes. _You slick bastard_. 

Vrek ignored his mate, and handed his credit chit to the attendant in the booth. “One hoverbike for the evening, please. The red one...?” He waited for confirmation from his mate. 

“The red one.” Keith gave it. 

After payment was sorted, Keith flung his leg over the side of the bike. It was Galran in design, and very different from the one he had back on Earth, and yet- it was the same machine. He activated the bike and was greeted with a reassuring groan of power as the bike lifted off the ground and thrummed between his legs. “Oh, it’s been too long…” Keith patted the chassis of the bike and lost himself in the nostalgia.

“Should I… give you two a moment...?” Vrek snickered, enjoying the sight of his mate falling in love and feeling an odd twinge of jealousy over an inanimate object.

Keith offered his hand to his mate, and hefted Vrek up onto the seat behind him. Vrek wrapped his arms around his mate’s waist for security, and the two sped off across the salt flats towards the horizon. 

The horsepower beneath him, the wind in his hair, and now- his mate at his back: this was the best feeling Keith could’ve possibly asked for.

He cut a path through the barren flats, kicking up the minerals and jewels in the slipstream of his wake. Keith was chasing the orange sun ahead of them, thinking- as if for a brief second that he might be able to catch it and risk being burned like Icarus. When he was on a hoverbike nothing seemed impossible: it was almost as good as being in a Lion. 

Keith didn’t know how long he had been driving; each moment seemed to be an eternity in of itself and yet also too fleeting. Before he had even realized it, the sun had begun to set over the horizon, and Keith brought the hoverbike to an idle hover and then to a stop. The superstructures of Karrahe city had been lost behind them, now they were only aware of its existence by the top of the mountain peaking out above the flats behind them and the subtle neon glow as the city started to come alive.

Vrek hopped off of the bike before Keith, and the two leaned back against the red frame as the sun started to dip below the vast expanse of nothing that laid before them.

It looked like… _home_ , Keith had thought. The orange sunset framing the flats between them much like how the desert back on Earth did. He was reminded of his father. Of his little shack in the sea of sand. 

“Do you miss it...?” Vrek took his mate’s hand in his own, staring at Keith and not at the setting sun as it leveled with the horizon and set the gems in the ground ablaze in a sea of color. Vrek was missing out on the beauty of this natural phenomena on this diamond encrusted paradise just so that he could look at his mate’s face for but a second longer. It was a decision Vrek would never regret. 

“Sometimes I do, yeah. But right now, I’m right where I need to be.” Keith squeezed his hand back.

“I was hoping that you would say that, because…” Vrek let go of Keith’s hand, and Keith chased the touch for a split second before he realized what Vrek was doing. Vrek got down on a knee, and reached into one of his pockets to reveal a small box. He presented the box to Keith and opened it up to reveal a small, but intricately woven string of fabric. It was a bond bracelet.

The bracelet was very unlike the one that they had tried to purchase in the shop. It had a single metallic black cord that was wrapped with three thinner strings of fabric: a golden orange, a red, and a deep purple. 

Keith was speechless. It was beautiful. And it was somehow grander a gesture than anything else that Vrek had done for him because he knew the importance of it. 

Vrek knew that his mate was happy: the warm contentment that filled his heart would rival the heat of the star that was setting before them. Nevertheless, the silence began to get uncomfortable. “Did... did I do it right? Is there a particular knee that I have to be on...?”

Keith grabbed the front of Vrek’s tunic in clenched fists and hauled his mate up to his feet so that he could meet him with a kiss. The kiss was tender and soft, unlike many of the passion filled desperation that the two frequently shared: this kiss was gentle, their tongues brushing against each other and shyly drawing themselves back if they explored too much and seemed too eager. “You did everything right, Vrek.”

Keith offered up his right wrist to Vrek, and Vrek took the bracelet out of its box and draped it over Keith’s wrist. He bit his lip, his hands were trembling. “You’re... you’re sure about this, right? Once I tie this on, the only way it comes off is if you cut it off…”

Keith pulled Vrek back down to him. Placing a smaller, gentler kiss against his lips. “Vrek. I’m sure. I love you. And I’ve never wanted anything else as much as I want this right now.”

Vrek’s ears flattened against his head as violet started to flush through him in a blush... he was embarrassed. But he was beyond happy. He tied the ends of the bracelet together, and had never felt more complete than he had in his life. 

  


“I think it’s time we go home.” Keith whispered. 

“It _is_ getting dark out... we should start heading back to the city before the bike runs out of power.”

“I meant back to the Blades.”

“Ah” Vrek lowered his gaze from his mate. “Do you not like it here...?” 

“Well, _yesterday_ was trash. But today was perfect,” Keith brought his hand up to his mate’s face. “It doesn’t matter _where_ we are, as long as we’re together.”

“Then let’s leave tomorrow.” Vrek met Keith’s eyes once more, and almost lost himself in that gorgeous shade of purple. 

“You have something you should do before we leave, though.”

It didn’t need to be said. Vrek knew what Keith was talking about. Keith had never met his own mother, and Vrek didn’t want to insult that tragedy by continuing to willfully ignore his own. There were some things that you couldn’t run from forever, and it was time for him to stop being a coward. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Artist Credit: @eeniiart on Twitter
> 
> Next up, Chapter 7: The Hard Goodbye*
> 
> Alright everyone! We're halfway there! 
> 
> I don't know how many of you have experienced prejudice in your lives, but it's a souring experience that really taints every interaction you've ever had. I tried to work in the bits of Galran racism in here and there in both subtle and overt tones in the last 3 chapters so that, upon reflection, nothing in this chapter comes as a surprise. Hopefully I succeeded at that. Let me know in the comments what you think! The support keeps me going!
> 
> BUT ALSO LOOK HOW HAPPY KEITH AND VREK ARE IN THAT LAST IMAGE. One thing that I really love what Eenii does with their art is how much happiness is conveyed in their poses and facial expressions. It really makes me happy to see these two happy, especially AFTER all the shit I put them through. xD
> 
> ALSO ALSO- angry, Alpha Vrek is hot. Does anyone else agree?


	7. The Hard Goodbye*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vrek has a conversation that's long overdue, and both Keith and Vrek say goodbye to Karrahe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPECIAL GUEST ARTIST FOR THIS CHAPTER: @agilaodan on Twitter

Once night had fallen, the two sped back towards the city and returned the hoverbike. 

Keith’s eyes kept drifting down to the bond bracelet that now adorned his wrist, unable to fight the smile that stretched across his face every time the metallic core caught the light and summoned his attention. On the train ride back to their apartment, Keith found his fingers constantly reaching up to stroke the fabric to remind himself of the gravity of such a bond. He wanted to run up to all his friends and scream his excitement. He had been bonded to Vrek for some time, but now- everything felt official in ways he couldn’t possibly explain.

“Wait a tick... what about yours? Aren’t you supposed to have one?” 

Vrek nodded down at his mate. “I don’t have one yet... because now it’s your turn to make one.”

 _Oh fuck_. “I don’t know how to make-“

“Don’t worry, my love. It’s not too difficult. And we can spend all night working on it if we have to.” Vrek kissed Keith’s forehead. They were bond mates. And now, the whole world would be able to see that without them having to pull down the collar of Keith’s shirt. 

On their way back to their apartment, the two stopped at two stores: first they stopped at a store specifically designed to sell cords of fabric to decorate bond bracelets. When Keith asked Vrek why he didn’t see any of the fancy Karradite-dipped cords here, Vrek replied that it was because _“only special shops on Karrahe are authorized to carry those.”_ Keith picked out an assortment of colored strands, and the two continued on to what appeared to be a grocery store. Vrek grabbed a bunch of bags and cans of snack food and when Keith asked what they were, Vrek’s response was _“nothing good for us, I can promise you.”_

_Now you’re speaking my language_ , Keith thought back at him.

\---

The two spent the next few hours casually eating snacks both sweet and savory. Keith particularly enjoyed something that reminded him of potato chips, and was only _slightly_ disgusted when Vrek had told him that what he was eating was a deep fried carapace of a chitkatin. Vrek’s favorite snack ended up being something sweet and in a can that had the same consistency and flavor of ice cream, but stayed at room temperature and didn’t require freezing. 

Both bond mates shoveled as much junk food into their mouths as they could, while Vrek demonstrated how to weave the strands of fabric together for a bond bracelet on the bits of practice strands that were leftover from the bracelet he had made for Keith. 

Once Keith was confident he could physically braid the strands together, he looked at Vrek for guidance. “So uh… where do I start? I don’t want to mess this up.”

Vrek laughed and gave his mate a reassuring scenting. “Keith, there is no possible way you could mess this up. Just do what feels right to you.”

That answer didn’t inspire Keith with a lot of confidence. Keith had always had intimacy issues, and he had never been a ‘gift-giver’ in his life. This was more pressure on him than it was fighting off a horde of Galra soldiers. 

“Would you like me to show you what I did?” Vrek circled behind his mate to rest his chin against Keith’s shoulder. When Keith nodded in approval, Vrek guided Keith’s hand up to his eyeline to trace a clawed finger over the delicate fibers. Vrek pointed out each strand, running his finger underneath the bracelet to help bring attention to the specificity of each color. 

“This one-” he pointed out the golden orange strand, “- is for Earth. The desert sunset you tell me about. It is where _you_ began.”

“This-” he pointed to the red strand next to the last, “Is for the Red Lion. Where your _journey_ began. How it led you out into the stars and into battle against the Empire.”

“This one-” the purple strand somehow clashed and blended together with the other colors so well. 

“Is that the Galra...?” Keith asked. 

“Close. It is _a Galra_. It’s me. It’s the color of the blood flowing through my veins. Tying my life to yours. And finally-” all that was left was the single, thick strand of the metallic fiber. It was special, different from any of the other strands, and both Keith and Vrek could feel the physical weight of it around his wrist as much as they could feel the emotional importance it held. “This is our bond. Strong, unbreakable, and unending. This is the two of us together.” Vrek circled his finger all the way around the bracelet to demonstrate there was nowhere where the bracelet ‘stopped’, it just kept looping around Keith’s wrist in a single, uninterrupted path. 

“Wow, alright. So no pressure, then.” Keith scoffed, but the undertones of his voice were laced with affection. He knew that Vrek had devoted himself to him, and he just wanted to repay that devotion with something equally as special. 

Keith started to select the strands that held the same meaning that his own represented. He was telling a story with this bracelet: his mate’s life. 

_Silver- for Karrahe_. It’s where Vrek’s life began.

 _A glowing Amethyst- for the Blades_. Where Vrek found his purpose. Where his fight began and how it had led him to Keith.

And finally- _red_. A brighter form of red than the one reflected on his own bracelet. Less of a deep crimson and more of a bright scarlet. His own life blood. _For my life is bound to yours_. 

Keith’s fingers worked with absolute precision, as if he was working on ordnance disposal. He wove the strands together as tightly as he could, double and triple checking everything to be sure he had done things correctly. When he was done, he held the bracelet up and presented it to his mate. 

“It’s beautiful, darling.” Vrek held his wrist out and presented it to Keith. Keith tied the bracelet around Vrek’s wrist, and then- everything seemed official. 

_My Alpha._ Keith’s thoughts graced Vrek’s mind. 

_My Omega._ Vrek answered back.

They held each other and let this moment chisel itself in their memories.

The two stayed up for a bit longer, watching pointless television and laying in each other’s arms. Keith rested his head against Vrek’s chest, the sounds from the television being drowned out by the hearty rumbling of his mate purring for him. Whatever dialogue Keith was missing, he wouldn’t mind: the sound of his alpha’s happiness filled his ears and his heart, and Keith had never felt more at peace with himself. 

When the time came to retire to the bedroom for the evening, Vrek grabbed his tablet and hastily typed out a message before his nerve left him.

**[Mother- I’m sorry I haven’t contacted you sooner. I would like to see you, and I need to speak with you. There is also someone that I think you should meet. Please come see us tomorrow for dinner. You know where. -Vrek]**

\---

Keith was the first one awake -a rarity between the two mates- but it was by design. There was something Keith wanted to do before his mate was up. Keith stealthily slipped out of Vrek’s grasp and rolled out of their bed. He wouldn’t be long, just a quick journey out of the apartment. He would barely be gone for 20 minutes. Keith grabbed his tunic and pants from the closet, and made for the door. 

But before he was able to leave the bedroom, Keith turned back towards his sleeping lover to admire his bond mate. Vrek was beautiful. Vrek’s arms were folded back behind his head, and it took a considerable amount of effort for Keith to not crawl back into bed and let himself be held in the safety of his alpha’s embrace. Keith’s eyes lingered down Vrek’s chest, watching the steady rise and fall of his breathing- and knowing in his heart that each and every breath that Vrek took, he took _for_ Keith. 

Keith leaned against the doorway and let his eyes wander down the plush purple fur that covered Vrek’s body, from the sharp dip in his collar bones… down to the toned stomach muscles… and down further to the very apparent bulge that stretched his undergarments. 

A warm plume of desire bloomed in Keith’s loins as his eyes stared at the outline of his mate’s manhood. Perhaps he could have some fun before he slipped out.

Keith gently pulled the blankets off of his mate’s legs, his movements slow and cautious as he monitored Vrek’s breathing to be sure he did not rouse from his sleep. Once uncovered, Keith crawled between his mate’s spread legs, and gently rolled Vrek’s underwear down his thighs; it was slow going, with every sleepy gesture from his mate causing Keith to still his movements, but eventually, Vrek was bared to his mate.

Keith licked his lips like a hungry predator, and laid down in the space between Vrek’s legs. If his mate was dreaming, he would bet that those dreams were about to get a whole lot better. 

Staring at the gorgeous galran cock and slit that was in front of him, Keith didn’t know where to start first. Admittedly, he’d had more experience in his life with dicks in his mouth, and could take some confidence in the skills that he had developed over the years- his only experience with ‘l _ess than traditional male bits_ ’ had been in the time he’d been bonded to Vrek. Vrek had been the only person that _he’d_ actually fucked in his life, and somehow that level of intimacy always seemed so much more different than whenever it was Keith that was being stretched around his alpha’s cock. He briefly wondered if there was some innate programming in the galran side of his brain that instinctually told him that it was because omegas don’t _top_ their alphas. 

But his mate had given him so much, and shown him so much in the time that they had been together. So in spite of Keith’s inexperience, he would still do anything he could to please his mate. 

Keith stretched his tongue out and dipped it between the folds of Vrek’s slit. Vrek responded with a sharp inhale, but stayed asleep. Keith practiced the movement again and again, until he could taste his mate’s slick being collected on his tongue. By this point, Vrek was hard- and his cock was flopped against his navel and drooling with it’s own slick. Keith grasped his mate’s length in his hand, held it straight up, and then ran his tongue from the bottom of Vrek’s slit straight up to the tip of his dick. Curiously, the slick from Vrek’s slit tasted different from the slick from his cock. It had been a long time since Keith had only found the taste of his mate’s slick ‘interesting’, but it was only now that he was noticing that the slick from his cock was a far richer substance: tasting sweeter and heavier against his tongue than the slick from between his legs. _Fuck, it tasted good._

Keith kept a hand on the base of his mate’s cock, right around where his knot would be- and continued his assault on Vrek’s slit. He tilted his head, and pressed his mouth to the soft folds as he extended his tongue inside of his mate as far as he could possibly reach, before curling his tongue upwards and scraping it against his velvety insides. Keith lapped and sucked on his mate’s slit until he could feel the slick gushing out front between his mate’s legs in steady pulses, and Keith would reward these pulses by gently squeezing down on the base of his mate’s cock until his mate was throbbing with an insatiable desire. Placing a soft kiss on the gap between Vrek’s cock and his slit, he decided that it was time to move on.

The entirety of Keith’s hand was covered in the slick pouring out of his mate’s cock. Vrek was _ready_ , and had he been awake, Keith was sure that his mate would have been begging. Keith moved his hand away, and sucked on the slick-producing bumps on the base of Vrek’s dick, paying special attention to run his tongue in tentative circles around each bump: clockwise first, and then counter clockwise. He repeated this movement on each side of his mate’s cock for every gland that was there (which took no small amount of time), and by the time he was done, Keith’s mouth was filled with the delicious taste of his mate and Vrek was panting with his dick actually _twitching_ in arousal. 

_Time for the main course_ , Keith thought to himself rather slyly. 

Keith made sure to steady his breathing, slow breaths in and out of his nose for a tick. _You’ve done this before. You can do it again._ Opening his mouth, he relaxed his throat and started to take Vrek as deeply as he could. Taking Vrek was by no means a small feat: the Galra was built for someone at least half a meter taller than Keith, and that sizing was proportionate. But Keith had had some practice, and soon enough, he could smell the rich muskiness of his Alpha as he felt his nose press against Vrek’s stomach.

Keith had been cautious not to attempt at any sucking while descending inch by inch down his mate’s cock, as he didn’t want to mess up the progress he was making. But now -with his mate fully seated in his mouth and throat- Keith could feel the sweet slick that was filling his mouth from his the bumpy glands on Vrek’s cock. Keith swallowed hard. All the delicious slick traveled down into his stomach as his throat constricted around Vrek’s cock.

Vrek exhaled as if all the air had been stolen from his lungs, and Keith took pride in the amount of writhing he could make his mate do. 

Keith pulled Vrek’s length out of his throat, pulling himself off of his cock and allowing himself to breathe for a few moments before continuing. Keith placed his lips against the tip of his mate’s cock, and delivered a passionate kiss before taking him back into his mouth. He started back up again slowly, gently sucking on the tip of Vrek’s cock while he massaged his tongue against the underside of his head, feeling the soft spongy texture yield under his efforts. 

Once Keith started working in earnest, he started to build his tempo- taking his mate as quickly as he could into his mouth without having to worry about his gag reflex. Keith traveled about halfway down Vrek’s dick, timidly sucking on the descent before redoubling his efforts on the way back up. He worked his hands in tandem, trying to focus on the technique he was using to push his mate to higher and higher heights. Keith’s left hand had wrapped itself around Vrek’s cock, and was working as an extension of his mouth- his hand chasing down the length that Keith wasn’t swallowing to still give his mate the pleasure of _hilting_ something. Meanwhile Keith’s right hand was beneath his mate’s cock, and was curling two fingers up inside of his mate’s slit. 

Vrek was a mess: he was sweating, he was breathing heavily, and he was somehow still asleep. 

Keith built up the pace, faster and faster until he could feel that his mate was teetering on the edge of his orgasm. Keith’s fingers were now scissoring their way inside of Vrek’s folds and when he could feel that all it would take was a nudge to send his mate over the edge, Keith let go of his mate’s cock, swallowing his mate back into his throat before burying his hand in his mate’s slit up until his palm. He curled all four of his fingers up inside of his mate, and Vrek let out a soft moan of pleasure as come poured directly down Keith’s throat. 

Keith swallowed once.... twice… three times... until the effort became too much and pale blue seed spilled out of the corners of his mouth.

He pulled himself off of his mate’s cock, and it took a few moments of gasping for air to collect himself. A deep sense of relaxation flooded through Vrek’s body, a relaxation so heavy that Keith could fall back asleep if he merely laid down and let his mate’s pleasure become his own. Vrek was covered in come and slick, and Keith contemplated lapping up what he could to clean his mate off before deciding better of it, and letting his mate’s mess be a mystery for him to solve when he did finally wake. 

After a… slight delay in his plans… Keith collected his clothes off the floor and snuck off to the kitchen. He dressed, washed his hands, and then grabbed Vrek’s tablet and pulled up a small map of the portion of the city that they were in. Keith traced a path with his finger as best he could from his memory before scouring the kitchen for some sort of container. _Did Vrek have any form of tupperware? Is there alien tupperware?_ The thoughts frustrated him for a few brief minutes before Keith was finally able to locate a tall thermos. 

_Perfect._

Keith stepped out the door, his face buried in the map displayed on his mate’s tablet, and set out into the empty streets of Karrahe as dawn started to illuminate the city streets in a comforting morning glow. 

\---

Vrek slept in. Vrek never slept in. 

But when he had opened his eyes, their bedroom was filled by the unmistakable auburn of sunlight. He tried to sit up before his own exhaustion pulled him back down to the safety of his bed like a sultry temptress. 

_What a vivid dream_. Vrek stretched his legs for a brief moment before he heard an obscene squelching noise that made him stop all his movements. He froze, and his eyes shot open as if alarms had been set off in his head. _Was that... from me..._? 

He tilted his head up and came to a comfortable rest on his elbows as he stared slack-jawed at the state he was in. Vrek’s crotch was still soaked. The inside of his thighs were covered in flakey dried slick and his underwear was rolled down past his knees. Small puddles of come littered the area around his cock and the bed sheets below him were damp with the echoes of his arousal. He had made a mess of himself. 

Vrek turned his gaze to his mate’s side of the bed, and saw that Keith was still there -fast asleep- just like how he had been when they’d drifted off last night. Keith was laying on his back, his head tilted down against the crook of a pillow as his hair drifted over his eyes like a blindfold. Vrek leaned up, slid his hand under Keith’s opposite shoulder, and rolled his smaller human mate atop him. 

Keith started to grumble and rub the sleepiness from his eyes when Vrek started running his claws listlessly through his mate’s hair. It was a practiced movement by now, with Vrek stroking all the apprehension out of Keith as if he were a kitten being pet. 

“Did you enjoy a little morning snack while I was asleep?” Vrek leaned up and rubbed his nose against his mate’s. 

Keith flushed a deep crimson and buried his head against Vrek’s shoulder. “Well... I couldn’t help it. Not when you were laying there all sexy-like.”

Now it was Vrek’s turn to blush. His mate’s breath still held the tinge of their morning activities, with the heavy scent of his seed rolling off his every word. He had, not once in his life, considered himself to be desirable to anyone. Sure, he was a fine example of a Type-2 Galran alpha, textbook even, but that meant that he was unremarkable in every capacity. Only Keith saw him through the lens of such allure. 

The two mates laid in bed for some time, not having to be anywhere or do anything; they simply enjoyed their late morning with one another before having to ready themselves for the evening. 

“We should pack now. My mother will be here in a few Vargas for dinner. I can order something for us and then, after she leaves, we can head to the spaceport.” Vrek said as Keith rolled out of bed to started his trek to the shower.

Vrek was entranced when his mate sauntered out of the room, with his eyes being locked on the subtle sway of Keith’s hips as his mate’s slender rear headed for their shower room. The slight curves of his hips were accentuated by the taut muscles that snaked its way up Keith’s back. _So delicate, and yet so strong_. Vrek was absolutely convinced that Keith was the most gorgeous being in the universe, and no one would ever be allowed to argue otherwise. 

“So are you just going to lay there staring at my ass? Or are you going to get out of bed and join me in the shower?” Keith called out once he was a significant distance from the bedroom. 

Vrek all but jumped out of bed to pursue his mate. 

\---

The rest of the day passed without incident, but held the air of waiting at the gallows- with neither of them knowing what to expect of the reunion that was looming before them. 

Keith was nervous. He was meeting his mate’s mother. _NO ONE_ he had ever been with before had bothered to introduce him to their parents. Keith had always been _‘the one you don’t tell your parents about’_ , so this was quite the change of pace. This was a very big deal, and he didn’t want to screw it up. 

Keith dressed up in the nice clothes that Vrek had bought for him, and found himself psychotically staring at his tunic and picking off specs of dust or lint that landed on him. He needed to look _perfect_. 

_My love, you already look perfect_. Vrek’s thoughts filled his mind as his arms closed around him. Vrek’s complements were reassuring, but Keith knew that Vrek was barely containing his own anxieties. He was beyond nervous, and Keith could feel that apprehension as if he were about to shove a fork into an electrical socket. 

Vrek had picked up an assortment of food from a local restaurant -food that looked cheap, greasy, and beneath the standards that Keith was projecting on to the matriarch of the Cyrik household- but Vrek had assured his mate that this was his mother’s favorite place to eat when he was growing up. Hopefully nothing about that had changed.

When the door finally chimed, their world stopped. Vrek and Keith looked at each other, and Keith gave his mate a brief hug. _I’m right here with you, baby_ , he assured his Galra mate. 

Vrek opened the door to a gorgeous Galran woman. Truthfully, she looked nearly identical to Vrek, but with some dark purple streaks in her fur striping across from both of her ears and her hair streaming down to her shoulders. She was wearing a silver tunic much like Vrek’s, but with coattails that extended along the back of her jacket down to her thighs, making her look almost like some sort of militaristic conductor. 

Keith stood as straight as he could, and still- he was barely approaching her eye-level. _Why do all Galra have to be so damn tall?_

She scanned the living room before she set foot in the apartment, her eyes initially passed over Keith as if he were a piece of furniture; after seeing that there was no one else present, she adjusted her eyes back to Keith before giving him a judgmental look-over.

When Vrek stepped into her line of sight, her expression softened as she exclaimed “ _Vrek! My baby boy!_ ” She fell against Vrek and wrapped her arms around his neck. Sure, she might have seemed intimidating, but her motherly kindness made her feel infinitely more approachable than she had seemed mere moments ago. 

_‘Motherly kindness’... not something I’m terribly familiar with,_ Keith was unable to stop the thought, but he pushed it to the very back of his mind the minute it had surfaced. 

Pleasantries were exchanged between Vrek and his mother: a mix of “ _I missed you_ ” and “ _How have you been_ ” punctuated the embracing and pecks on the cheek as the two stood in the entryway to the apartment and reacquainted themselves. When the banter died down, and both the Galra’s attention was directed towards Keith, the small human found himself as if he were a small animal caught in the gaze of a predator. 

“Hi... um... Keith. My name is Keith.” He fumbled over himself as if he had never spoken before in his life. 

To her credit, whatever expectations that Vrek’s mother had, she swallowed with her pride and gave Keith a balletic bow. “Keith. It is wonderful to make your acquaintance. My name is Yurisha. Please forgive my boorishness. You are… not what I had been expecting.”

“Um… yeah. That’s fine, I guess. I understand.” Keith examined her speech, the way she held herself, and the way she was dressed, and again thought to himself that the food that they had purchased which he would compare to ‘cheap Chinese take out’ was a mistake. 

It was not a mistake. Yurisha was ecstatic when she identified the smells that were gracing the kitchen. After the three had filled their plates and settled in the hollow of the couch, the conversation began in earnest once more. 

Everything was going well, Vrek regaled some stories from medical school: how his dorm-mate had inappropriately used the chemical synthesizer to make hallucinogens, how he’d stayed up countless nights to study for the wrong exam- but would still manage to pass with flying colors, and how he’d once have to correct his professor whilst he’d been in the middle of a lecture… his professor did not appreciate that. The three all laughed together, and Yurisha even recalled how she’d boasted to anyone that would listen that her son was at the top of every class he had taken. As a mother, she had been incredibly proud of her son. 

Keith was again reminded of the conversation he had with Regris- _‘... a really high achiever… second youngest Blade to ever be second medic… he’s got quite a mind…’_ \- that was his mate through and through. 

Yurisha, as it turned out- was a propagandist of sorts. Her job was to coordinate the ‘ _education_ ’ of newly _‘liberated’_ Galra worlds in the history and culture of the glorious empire. The prospect didn’t excite Keith much, in fact- if anything, it angered Keith: his thoughts were drawn back to the offensive display the two had encountered at the ‘Voltron Exhibit’. Regardless of their personal feelings, Keith feigned enthusiasm out of social obligation, and Yurisha was none the wiser.

Yurisha spoke (almost entirely ignorant to the fact that Keith was sitting right next to her) of the barbarism of some of the planets that she was forced to communicate with, explaining, “Some of them didn’t even understand the concept of social hierarchy! But we explained to them that if they made themselves of use to the empire, that they would be awarded honorary second-class citizenship.” She even had the audacity to speak of a wonderful Galra omega that was working as her secretary, and how she would love to introduce Vrek to her, as if Vrek’s relationship with Keith wasn’t a _permanent_ development. 

Keith wanted nothing more than to change the subject to _anything_ else. When Yurisha was finally reminded of Keith’s existence, as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, she bit her tongue, as if understanding the ass she had just made of herself. She dipped her head in Keith’s direction, and apologized. “I’m sorry. Forgive my lack of decorum. I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine.”

“So... why not tell me about yourself?”

_Oh, fuck no. Anything but that._

“I’m afraid I’ve never encountered a… well… someone of your species.” She turned her full attention to Keith, and allowed Keith to take the reins of the conversation. 

Keith spoke first of his days at the Galaxy Garrison: the premiere academy of space exploration back on Earth, the highest honor that Keith could find comparable to Vrek’s time at the Karrahe Medical Academy. Keith started to dip into his own memories about the fist fights that had erupted between him and James Griffin, about his adventures of cutting class, and racing hoverbikes across the desert: he unintentionally painted himself as a delinquent, and it distressed Yurisha. 

“Surely-” she said, “- your parents would have had something to say about this?”

“My parents…” Keith bit his lip, treading over the emotions that he had long buried. “My father died when I was little. He was a firefighter… his job was dangerous. My mother was Galra but… I never had the chance to meet her. She abandoned us after I was born.”

Whatever conceptions that Vrek’s mother may have been building about Keith had vanished as Keith suddenly found himself in the warm embrace of her arms. She was a mother: no matter the species, she would hate to see a kit abandoned. “I’m so sorry, Keith. Child abandonment is a crime that no Galran court would stand. Surely your mother would be executed in any civilized society for having made you suffer. It is unfortunate that you were not raised in the core worlds where you would have been cared for.”

Yurisha’s words were intended to comfort, but Keith found no solace in what she was saying. 

“So how long have the two of you known each other?” She asked. 

“At this point... it feels like a lifetime,” Vrek answered her, both answering her question while simultaneously not answering her question. 

“And… are you both serious about each other...?”

Keith couldn’t discern whether or not her question held genuine intrigue, or if Vrek’s mother still held reservations that Keith might just be some casual alien fling of which Vrek would one day tire of to settle down with a true, _pure_ Galra... one with the same clearly discernible lineage that was so painfully evident in Vrek’s family.

Keith held up his wrist, displaying the bond bracelet of which his mate had crafted for him. “We’re bonded together.”

“Our lives are now one. Keith is mine to love, until the stars burn themselves out.” Vrek finished for him. 

Yurisha seemed to mull over their answers in her head for quite some time. Perhaps she was coming to terms with Keith’s involvement in her son’s life. Regardless, the two were bonded- and nothing she could say or do could affect that. “Then... in which case, I wish you both the best. And Keith, I will accept you as a true Galra for as long as you make my son happy.”

It wasn’t much, but it was something, and both Keith and Vrek would eagerly accept that something. It was an olive branch that Yurisha was clearly already having to struggle with extending. But her own approval, even a hesitant approval at that, lifted a suffocating burden off of Vrek’s shoulders. 

The evening was going well. 

Then conversation shifted, with Vrek inquiring about his sister. “So... how is Yuerek? Surely you’ve heard from her recently. Is she keeping well?”

Vrek’s mother’s ears perked up at the mention of her daughter very much like how Vrek’s own ears twitched when he was excited. Keith was instantly reminded of how Vrek had previously told him how it was his sister that was “ _... the real pride of the family_ ,” with the delight that was immediately evident on Yurisha’s face.

“Oh yes! You see, Keith.... Vrek’s sister Yuerek was always the _fighter_. Vrek always had a much gentler touch.” Keith had seen Vrek in action before, and he was no pushover. He shuddered to think what his sister might be capable of. “Your sister was promoted! She’s now a commander in the Empire and is personally overseeing the conquest of an entire Galactic theater! She’s making us all so proud, isn’t she...?”

This was new information to Vrek. On one hand, he had always known that his sister would make an excellent soldier, and this promotion should be of little surprise to him. From a very young age she held a viciousness in her that made all the other children shy away from her. At the same time, Vrek had to think about the blinking-red star map that the Blades would observe before their missions and wonder which one of his fellow Blades would be sent to infiltrate her command... and which of his brothers or sisters-in-arms would be sent to _assassinate_ her. The thought that his sister might be a target of Kolivan’s is one that Vrek didn’t want to confront, and he instantly pushed it out of his mind.

As his mother spoke about the worlds that her daughter, his sister, _‘liberated’_ she spoke with the utmost pride of the souvenirs she’d returned with, and the amount of soldiers that she commanded. She thanked the grace of Zarkon that their family had been given such a high honor as to help expand the glory of the Galra empire. 

It was time for the truth. 

“Mother-” Vrek began. He had been reciting a speech in his head all afternoon, but now, all the words that he had practiced fled him, and he was left stumbling in the dark. “- we’re rebels. Keith and I both. These past few decaphoebs, I’ve been fighting against the empire.”

Vrek’s mother laughed in solitude. Until the sound of her own laughter started to die in her throat as she realized that her son was not making a type of joke, and that he had really intended to fight against something as colossal and enduring as the empire itself. The ambiance of the entire meeting had shifted when she refocused on her son, her mouth agape as if to speak words she couldn’t yet fathom.

“I... we... might not return. And if this is the last time I get to see you, I wanted to tell you how much I love you. I thank both you and father for everything that you two have sacrificed for me. After I left... I know that that couldn’t have been easy for either of you, and I’m sorry. But we can’t sit idly by after seeing what the empire has done.” Vrek’s hands were trembling, and he was relieved when he felt Keith take them in his own smaller grasp. 

After a long while, his mother spoke again. “The... the empire has provided so much for our family. So much for our people. Why...”

“Because,” Vrek started. “Because they’ve done it at the expense of trillions of others. We’ve seen the empire torture people. Drain entire planet’s of their quintessence. Raze entire civilizations because Zarkon was in a bad mood. It has to stop. _We_ have to do something.” Keith felt Vrek’s grip around his hand tighten at the last sentence. 

Vrek’s horrified mother turned her eyes to Keith- they were welling up with tears, but they still burned with the fire of accusations as if it were somehow Keith’s fault that Vrek was drawn into this war.

“No, mother. I met Keith long after I joined this fight. If nothing else, Keith has protected me, and given me so much more to live for. Don’t blame him. Blame me.”

“Did I do something wrong?” Yurisha asked, her tears now starting to freely flow from her eyes. “Did I push you away? I... you can still come back. You could be an officer! You could officiate your doctorate! Your sister has a lot of leverage and you have a brilliant mind and I’m sure the empire would love to accept you into its ranks if you just...”

“This _isn’t_ about my social standing. This isn’t about what I have to gain. This is about… _everyone else_ in this galaxy. There are people suffering... dying. And we can help them. You were the one that taught me to care about people. I thought that you would understand that.” Vrek hoped his mother would understand. He prayed that his mother might understand.

“I taught you to care about _our_ people. I didn’t expect you to turn into some bleeding heart that falls into bed with any lower species that the Empire happens to step on-“ Yurisha stopped herself. Her eyes darted to Keith before she momentarily silenced herself. What she was going to say was clear. There was no need for her to even finish the thought, and yet she continued. “These creatures don’t count, Vrek. You need to see that it’s _us_ who matter. _I_ matter. _Your_ _sister_ matters. _You_ matter. You need to learn that the rest of the universe should feel privileged to exist beneath us.”

“I refuse.” Vrek didn’t miss a beat. He laced his fingers around Keith’s and squeezed. 

A very uncomfortable silence befell the room, and soon enough, all Keith could feel was the vice grip that Vrek had on his hand.

Seconds turned to minutes, and the minutes stretched on into an eternity. Until finally, Vrek’s mother stood, bowed to them both, and left the apartment without another word.

In the silence that lingered in the apartment following his mother’s departure, neither Vrek nor Keith could find the words to fill the void. For some time, Vrek half expected his mother to come back through the front door with the words that she wished she could tell him. Even a _‘goodbye’_ or an _‘I’m sorry’_ would be preferable to the sullen silence of her exodus. 

By the time it was clear that Yurisha would not be returning, Vrek turned to Keith and said, “We should get going. We have a long journey back to base.” Keith could clearly hear the waiver in Vrek’s voice, but he didn’t address it. 

When the two arrived at the spaceport, Vrek attempted to purchase them passage on a transport when his credit chit was rejected. The attendant tried the chit a few more times, with each attempt being met with a blinking red light and a disapproving beep.

“I’m sorry, sir. But it appears as if this chit has been deactivated.”

Keith pulled out the small, disposable chit that had been provided to him by the Blades, and presented it to the Galra attendant. The Galra woman scanned the chit, and was able to process a single economy seat with all the funds that had been loaded on to the card. 

As best as the two could recall, even the economy seats in the transport were large and lavish. It may draw a few eyes, but it wouldn’t be impossible for them to share a single seat, if necessary. 

The Galra attendant stood idly by as the couple considered their options, her gaze drifting down to the pair of matching bond bracelets that the two were wearing. She would assume that this Galran man was ostracized from his family’s wealth due to his parents not approving of his choice of mate, and she shared some sympathy with the newly-bonded pair.

“I uh... I know it’s not much consolation. But it shouldn’t matter whether or not anyone else accepts your love for each other. The main thing should be whether or not the two of you are happy.” She provided them with a complimentary ticket and hurried them along so that they wouldn’t miss their flight. 

Her conclusion was misguided, but the kindness that she showed the two was genuine, and Keith was thankful for the small mercy she had granted them. While Keith profusely offered his appreciation to the attendant, Vrek was too distraught to offer anything more than a mumbled “ _thank you_ ” in her direction before they walked away.

Once the two boarded the luxury starcraft, they found the most isolated seats possible -away from any prying eyes or wandering glances- so that Vrek could lean against his mate’s shoulder and cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up, Chapter 8: Not in Our Stars, But in Ourselves*
> 
> SooooOooooOooo... did that go how you were expecting? 
> 
> Honestly, it's situations like Keith and Vrek's that make me wonder...  
> I think that part of growing up is realizing that your parents are fallible: learning that your parents have flaws can shatter the safety we feel and sometimes wound the love that we have for them... but that's a necessary part of life, is it not? Was it better for Keith to have never known his mother, and for his father to have died before he'd gotten that chance? Is he luckier than Vrek, who has now been completely cast aside by his family?
> 
> Anyways... next chapter will be fun. I promise. ;D  
> Let me know what you think! I always love reading your comments!
> 
> Artist Credit: @agilaodan on Twitter  
> Honestly, when I initially planned out this fic and all of its accompanying images, I hadn't planned on this one. But I ran across Agi's twitter and ALL of the Koliveith stuff they had and I was overtaken by A MIGHTY NEED. So thank you all for indulging me and I hope you enjoy this more risque image as well!
> 
> Side note: I'm formatting all of these images to work best on a phone's web-browser. So they may come out a bit smaller on a desktop, but I figured that if you're like me, you're browsing Ao3 at 2am, on your phone, while laying in bed. Please let me know if I made the right decision on this because I've been real paranoid about format.


	8. Not in Our Stars, But in Ourselves*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vrek and Keith return to the Marmora base and are welcomed back with both an unexpected surprise and a proposition...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOTS of lewd in this Chapter but also lots of cute. Enjoy.

The return trip through the litany of transport hubs was uneventful.

With every passing transport that the two boarded, the couple seemed more and more out of their element- with their respective silver and burgundy tunics no longer matching with the crowd they were traveling with. Dressed up in their fancy Karrahe tunics, Keith was certain that more than a few down-trodden and shady passengers eyed them with a keen interest for the GAC they could have been carrying. If anyone so much as dared to make eye-contact, Keith would stare daggers into their souls with the palpable aura of _‘I will kill you in the most painful ways I know you fear’._

No one bothered them. 

The irony of the situation was, with Keith’s credit chit being drained in a single transaction and Vrek now no longer able to rely on his family’s wealth, the only GAC between the two were the meager handful provided to them for their passage back to the base. 

Vrek spent the majority of each ride hunched over with his face buried against Keith’s chest. Keith could feel that the front of his tunic was damp with the tears of his mate, but it was the deep ache inside of his sternum that was worrying him more. He felt as if his heart had been filled with lead and pulled down into the recesses of his stomach, and when he closed his eyes, he could see himself standing on a shore in the middle of a lightless night, with the waves of a dark sea crashing against his legs. 

Vrek felt as if he was lost somewhere out in that sea, poisoning his mind, drowning him in it’s insidious depths- and he was desperately trying to swim to shore to meet his mate. But the current of his sadness kept dragging him back out from the shallows. He would find his footing -his emotional stability- all before losing himself entirely and tumbling back out into the pain he was drowning in. 

All Keith could do was stroke the back of his mate’s fluffy ears and coo soothing noises above him. He was here. And he reminded Vrek that he would always be here for him. 

Keith could feel the turmoil that his mate was in, and yet- it still wasn’t something he could entirely comprehend. His father had died, but at least Keith knew that his father had loved him. While he resented his father for the secrets that he had kept from him, he knew that those secrets were kept with his well being in mind. Vrek’s family had disowned him: he was cast aside and forgotten as if he had never been alive in the first place; and while Keith was abandoned by his mother, he never knew her... and he was never given the opportunity to mourn that loss.

By the time they had arrived at the final transfer station, Vrek had made an admirable attempt at pulling himself together. He separated everything in his mind, and distanced himself from the memories of his family with each step he placed between him and Karrahe. _Compartmentalize_ , he urged himself. He would miss his family, surely, but he had a new family: both Keith and the Blades. They would be more than enough. 

Removing his tablet from his pocket, Vrek sent an encrypted message out to the Blades as per their protocol.

**[TWO AGENTS. ARRIVAL AT JAKARTH STATION. AWAITING EXTRACTION]**

The reply was instantaneous, an automated response that was triggered by the notice that Vrek had sent.

**[POD PROVIDED. PROCEEDED TO HANGER GAMMA-TWELVE. RETURN ON OWN VOLITION]**

“Hmmm,” Vrek mused. 

“Is that strange?” Keith held Vrek’s hand, not wanting to be out of physical contact with his mate. 

“Nothing terribly concerning. I would assume that a pod was left for us if the Blades had made a supply run out in this direction, but all that is here is a transport hub and a trading outpost for food.”

The two navigated the corridors of the station until they had arrived at a small hangar. A pod was indeed there waiting for them, and after having taken the time to scan the pod for any tracking devices that may have been left by a suspect third party (as such a precaution was second nature to the Blades) both Vrek and Keith settled themselves into the cockpit. 

\---

The hangar at the Marmora base was devoid of life, without a pilot, mechanic, or technician to be seen. Both Vrek and Keith knew that the Blades were not ones to leave posts unattended, and their uneasiness steadily rose the longer they continued to be greeted with empty halls and corridors. 

The echoing of a distant shout caught their attention, but the shout didn’t convey anything resembling pain. It seemed more like… laughter...?

“Is Kolivan off-base?” Keith asked his mate, as Vrek increased the gait of his steps so that Keith had to jog to keep up.

“Why would you think that?”

“Because that sounds like a party. And why else would there be a party?” 

When the two entered the main hall, they confirmed that the commotion that they had heard was indeed that of revelry. Every Blade on base was crammed into the high-ceilinged room, a few tables lined with food - _actual food_ \- littered the center of the room as Blades sparred, cajoled, and drank with each other. 

The two met eyes with Regris, who was currently balanced atop a table with a cup in each of his hands as well as one in his tail. “KEITH! VREK! THE LOVE-BIRDS ARE BACK!”

Regris brought the attention of all the Blades in the main hall to the couple standing in the doorway. He had announced their presence as if they were visiting royalty and, dressed in the overly formal and clearly expensive tunics that they were wearing- the two were dressed the part. 

Their amphibious brother hopped off the table with a certain elegance, but sauntered up to them without such grace as he offered them both the cups that were in his hands. “Drink! Drinkdrinkdrinkdrinkdrink” he encouraged them. 

Keith didn’t know what Regris had handed him, but a single sip and he confirmed that whatever it was, was definitely made with high amounts of ethanol. They were all getting _wasted_ , and the attention brought to their dramatic entrance was quickly forgotten as all the Blades returned to their drinks. 

“Regris...” Vrek’s tone was that of a disappointed parent. “Are Antok and Kolivan _both_ off base? Because if either of them hear that you’ve thrown a party while they were on a mission... I’m afraid I don’t have the medical know-how to put you back together after _what they do to you_.”

Regris stepped between the two, draped his arms around each of their shoulders, and actually leaned in to kiss Vrek’s cheek before turning to do the same to Keith’s. “Do I really seem that irrespons-”

“YES” A chorus of voices all within earshot joined both Keith and Vrek’s response. 

“IN ANY CASE,” Regris plowed through his response as if he hadn’t just taken a fatal blow to his credibility. “It was Antok’s idea for all of… this. And Kolivan _agreed._ ”

“Why?” Keith attempted to slink out of Regris’ grasp, but Regris’ tail slipped around Keith’s waist in a manner that seemed all too intimate and held Keith to his side. It made Keith jump at the contact as he felt the muscle coil around his body. Regris was very drunk.

“You didn’t hear?” Regris leaned his massive scaly head against Keith’s hair, as if he was unable to support the weight of his alcohol soaked brain.

“Hear what?” It was Vrek who asked. 

“EVERYONE!” Regris called back the attention of every Blade in the room once more. “They haven’t heard!”

Both Vrek and Keith searched the room for an answer that remained unspoken, with the anticipation beginning to annoy them. A few Blades across the hall shouted out “ _tell them!_ ”, but Regris seemed keen on enjoying every second of their bewilderment. 

It was Ilun that actually appeared by their side to collect their very inebriated friend, letting Regris drape himself over her as she pried him off of her two comrades. “The best news any of us have received in our lifetimes...” Ilun began with a knowing smirk. “Zarkon is dead.”

“S...seriously...?” Keith couldn’t believe it. This fight hadn’t been his whole life, like it had been for much of the other Blades here, but the weight of impossibility in toppling a reign that had lasted ten thousand years was not lost on him. This was a victory unlike anything the Blade of Marmora had ever seen before. 

Before Ilun, or anyone else could respond, Keith found himself swept off of his feet. For a brief second he was disoriented, staring at the ceiling as he realized what had happened. Vrek had tipped him over, and was now leaning in to kiss his mate. Keith opened his mouth, and felt Vrek’s soft lips and gentle tongue press against his own. There were _whoops_ and _hollers_ and _oooh’s_ as the other Blades around them celebrated their kiss as much as they celebrated the defeat of a malevolent dictator. 

Ilun rolled her eyes. “Alright, you two. Enjoy the party. I’m going to get this one something to eat before all that Ryncal kills what’s left of his few remaining brain cells.”

“This is fantastic news…” Vrek held his mate in his arms, lips still hovering over Keith’s in their romantic embrace. _But Ilun was mistaken._

_About...?_ Keith pressed his thoughts back against his mate. 

_This still pales in comparison to the best news I’ve heard in my life._

_And what was that, Vrek?_

Vrek pressed another tender kiss against his mate’s lips. _Isn’t it obvious? It’s when you told me that you loved me back_. 

Keith absolutely melted into the kiss.

\---

When Kolivan had received the first report that Zarkon had been killed, he had been beside himself. Kolivan waited for a second report from one of his undercover agents confirming that yes, Zarkon was dead, and yet- he still could not believe it. It was only when Kolivan had confirmed Zarkon’s demise with the Black Paladin himself, had he allowed himself to believe the impossible. 

Zarkon was dead. 

Antok was the first one that Kolivan had summoned to share the good news with. The two bond mates had embraced, and when Antok slipped an arm around Kolivan’s waist, coupled with a gentle stroke of his ears- he had quietly suggested that what remained of the Blades’ infiltration budget for the decaphoeb be blown on a celebration feast. Antok knew that, like this- he could get whatever he damn well pleased. It wasn’t playing fair. 

And so the Blades had traveled to Jakarth station, and purchased a large amount of food and drink. 

Seeing his warriors now, in the main hall- actually enjoying themselves, Kolivan realized that whatever regrets he might later have over such an exuberant expenditure would be wholly worth it. The life that he was witnessing in his brothers and sisters-in-arms was unlike anything he had seen before, and it reminded him of the hope that they had all shared. It was certainly ambitious to think that their small band of traitors and half-breeds could usurp an empire that had lasted generations, but in the here and now, anything seemed possible. 

Keith and Vrek had returned sometime during the fourth varga of their celebration, and the lover’s affection had more than once become the center of attention of the entire affair. It made sense to Kolivan -bonded pairs were rare within the Blade of Marmora, especially ones so recently joined- and so their love was laden thick in the air around them, and it gave many other Blades hope that they would also one day experience a love so pure. 

Although, when the crowd of Blades had started to encourage the two bond mates to take part in the festivities with a friendly spar, Kolivan had to step in and forbid the two from making an inappropriate scene of their celebration.

“You should say something.” Antok was at Kolivan’s side, prodding him as he too enjoyed seeing his comrades happy.

“Antok, I’m terrible at speeches.”

“Lies. You’re spectacular at them. You just _hate_ giving them,” Antok retorted. “Besides, I’m sure they’d love to hear from their leader.”

Antok was, as always- correct. As the leader of the Blades, Kolivan should address them on this momentous occasion. 

“Blades...” Kolivan cleared his throat and began, his voice carrying throughout the hall and quickly calling the attention of all as he addressed them. “... brothers and sisters, tonight... We celebrate a feat that many in my position had thought impossible. A feat that even I had once thought impossible. Emperor Zarkon’s reign is over!”

The entire hall erupted in cheers. Both glasses and knives were raised as the Blades before him shouted and screamed in triumph. 

When Kolivan held a hand up, and a hushed murmur settled over the crowd. “But tonight is a night not without its toll. This is a victory, yes. But it is not a victory of the coalition alone. This is a victory hard fought by all those who are no longer with us: the Blades that laid down their lives in the hopes that they might have also seen this day... for they share in this celebration as much as we do. This is for them.” Kolivan raised his glass to the air, prompting all others in the massive hall to do the same. “ _Vrepit sa!_ ”

“Vrepit sa!” The Blades all answered their leader. 

“Our fight is not over. The Empire still stands. There are still warlords and commanders who will be vying to take Zarkon’s place, meaning that our work is not yet finished. But as we stand at the precipice of long and terrible war... know that the tide has turned, and that the end of our struggle is near. Enjoy tonight. You’ve all earned it. For tomorrow, we topple a dynasty!”

And so, the celebration continued. 

\---

Keith and Vrek were surrounded by their comrades.

Everyone was laughing and regaling stories of previous missions as if their lives as soldiers were behind them. Keith himself was on his second glass of whatever liquid kept magically filling his cup, and noticed that every one of the Blades in front of him had started to wobble and turn... blurry.

Keith was in the middle of recounting a tale: one of his early missions as a Blade, one in which he took part in with both Kolivan and Regris. “And so Kolivan says… ‘Extraction in two doboshes’,” Keith crumpled his face and gave his best impersonation of their leader- “and we all start running...”

Regris, still slouched over Ilun’s shoulder, pulled his hood down over his eyes, already knowing how this story ends. “Don’t forget, Keith! You were the one who blew our cover!”

“That’s not the good part, though!” Keith waved his arms frantically. “So Kolivan and I get back to our ship and Regris isn’t there. So I go back for Regris - _you’re welcome, by the way_ \- and I turn the corner and here comes this giant lizard, running down the hallway with a legion of Galra sentries behind him!”

“Keith, don’t do it...” Regris warned him.

“AND REGRIS HERE, turns the wrong corner, _misses_ our airlock, and slams into a locked door at a full sprint. He knocks himself out cold.” The whole group burst into joyous laughter at the expense of poor Regris. “So I have to pick him up and carry him the rest of the way to the transport. And the first thing he says when he comes to is _‘guys, I’m almost there, open the door’.”_

The scales on Regris’ face flickered an iridescent teal, with light speckles of green occasionally fluttering through his cheeks. “Okay- Okay- enough about _me_. It’s _your_ turn.”

“My turn?”

“Of course, Earthling”, Ilun stated. “You can’t just waltz back in to base dressed up like a Galran prince of some sort and not give us the details.”

“So eager to find out what happens in our nest, Ilun?” Vrek teased his comrade. 

Ilun flicked off the comment with a wave of her hand, but Vrek’s response was met with a few off-handed comments of “ _I do!_ ”, “ _Give us a hint!_ ”, and “ _Tell us!_ ” from Lastor, Langath, and Xanten.

Vrek, already fairly inebriated himself, buried his face in his drink and mumbled out, “Keith gets bitey in his sleep.” Making not only Keith blush, but a few other Alphas flush with excitement.

Regris removed himself from Ilun, and draped himself over Keith’s shoulders- as if trying to reenact the time that Keith had saved his life. “ _Excuse me_ , I believe that _I_ was the first one here to be bequeathed friend status. As such, I am entitled to all the juicy details of your vacation.”

Keith was about to take another long sip of his drink, requiring all the liquid courage he could muster, before a lavender colored claw held itself over his cup. It was Ulaz. “Not just yet. _You_ need to start watering this down,” his hands worked before Keith could protest, filling his partially full cup with water before handing another cup to Vrek. “And _you_ need another drink.”

“You’re no fun.” Keith teased the head medic and continued to sip his drink. 

Vrek maneuvered his way around Regris, and slid an arm around Keith’s waist. “Yeah, Ulaz. We can let him live a little…”

Ulaz grumbled something under his breath about Keith being a bad influence on his medic.

Regris brought the topic of conversation back to Keith’s attention by jabbing a finger into Keith’s chest and saying “Spill it.”

“Yeah!” Lastor chimed in. “We heard you went to Karrahe?”

“How does _everyone_ know already?” Keith asked his mate.

Ilun shrugged and offered “We’re spies. We gossip.” 

And so- Keith began to list the highlights of his romantic endeavor with Vrek, while being keenly aware to leave out all of the bits of both bigotry and intimacy. Starting with their gentle trip down the stream under the romantic shade of Imperial Oaks, all the way through to their romp through the jewel studded salt flats on a hoverbike. 

Regris was- as one might expect, particularly interested in all the details of the hot spring that they visited- constantly asking Keith what the sand _felt_ like and what the exact _temperature_ the water was. The rest of the Blades seemed to just be enamored at what a lavish life the two were able to live outside of this war torn hellscape. 

Vrek nudged Keith, his only part in this storytelling being to somehow avert his gaze whenever the question of _“how much did that cost?”_ floated up within their circle of conversation. “Keith here also might have found his favorite meal, as well…”

“Oh, I think we all know what _THAT_ is, already.” Ganda blurted out. 

Keith flushed a deep red, the memories of his mate’s taste in the early morning seeping it’s way back into his senses. 

“I MEANT the grilled Chitkatin, dearest.” Vrek giggled a school girl’s giggle, adding- _but you can have_ _that_ _later, too._

“Oh... r...right. Yeah... that was pretty good.” Keith nodded, trying to force himself to make eye contact with those around him again so that they wouldn’t suspect that the first thing that had come to mind was indeed what Ganda was insinuating. 

“Chitkatin!” Regris blurted out. “Oh man... I remember that Thace used to make the bes-”

Ilun shoved Regris hard, coupling her interruption with a cough. Regris immediately shut his mouth, and the two Blades turned their gaze to Ulaz, who seemed to have turned into a statuesque embodiment of grief. The pain on Ulaz’s face was evident for a mere second before he shook off the remorse to not dampen the mood of the festivities. He would convince himself that he was fine, even if he has yet to give himself the proper time to mourn. 

“I… I’m sorry, Ulaz... I didn’t mean...” Regris’ tail started to droop as if he had just stepped on someone’s toes. Regris had no qualms joking about the eradication of his own species: his overly morbid sense of humor is one that has made many uncomfortable over the years. But rubbing at the raw wound of someone else’s ‘world’ was a step past impropriety that he truly hadn’t meant. 

“There is nothing to apologize for, Regris. This is as much Thace’s celebration as it is ours.” Ulaz walked closer to Keith, and when Regris slipped off of Keith’s side, Ulaz was there to place his hand on the small man's shoulder. “Keith, we are all in your debt. This resurgence wouldn’t have happened without you.”

Keith shrugged the medic’s hand off of his shoulder. “Ulaz, I wasn’t even _there_ when Zarkon was killed.”

“No, Ulaz is right.” It was Kolivan that spoke next, followed closely by Antok. The two senior soldiers parted the crowd in front of them, and arrived in the rather large circle that had formed around Keith and Vrek. “Until the re-emergence of Voltron, we have been operating entirely in the shadows. The minute you brought the Red Lion here, our entire order changed.”

“My entire life changed…” Vrek leaned down to whisper into his ear, apparently not quiet enough. 

“ _All_ of our lives changed,” Kolivan continued. “Blades!” Kolivan demanded the attention of everyone in the hall once more. “Raise your hand if you faced Keith during his trials.”

Keith turned to scan the room, beyond shocked as he realized that he’d fought nearly every Blade present… including his mate.

“You see, Keith? You showed us all the perseverance that was necessary. You were the catalyst for change. Do not belittle the contributions you have made to our order.” Kolivan finished, and continued through the crowd with Antok. 

In the stunning silence, Keith couldn’t find the words for the compliments he had been given. 

The party started to die down in the vargas following. The Blades had all but devoured the food that they had purchased, and the alcohol was being depleted at an alarming rate as well. The sparring that was taking place had all but stopped and many of the Blades were drunk enough to have abandoned standing entirely in lieu of sitting on the floor of the main hall. 

Vrek was still standing and was now propping up a rather drunk Keith. The conversation circle that had formed around the two mates had gradually grown over the night, with Blades both new and old sitting and standing around them to listen to Keith’s stories of Voltron or share tales of their own. 

Before the bond mates could retire themselves for the evening, they both noted that Regris seemed to be having some sort of hushed argument with Ilun.

“I’m going to ask them.” Regris jumped up with an enthusiasm as if he had not been completely wasted; although he seemed to have enough cognitive processes to recognize what a horrible decision such quick movements were. Regris’ tail looked as if it were weighted down as he struggled to straighten his back and present himself as properly as he could before sauntering over to where Keith and Vrek were standing. 

“Keith, words cannot describe the honor that you have brought to our order... and your actions as both a Blade, as well as the Red Paladin shall surely be recorded in the annals of history. Vrek, you are our Medic… and the debt that we all owe you is an insurmountable one of which we cannot begin to repay.” In an elegant and seemingly practiced bow, Regris bent himself at the waist, lowered his head, and stretched out his arms as if he were presenting himself to a royal court of sorts. “I respect and admire the love you share for one another. If you would do me the honor... I would be privileged to join you in your nest this eve.”

Every Blade was stunned: stunned at the audacity that Regris might have to present himself to a bonded pair (especially with an alpha as possessive as Vrek). At the same time, it was _Regris_ , and no one was really _that_ _surprised_ that he had made such a proposal. 

Keith looked at Regris -who was maintaining his bow- then back to Vrek. Then back to Regris, and back to Vrek. _What do I say?_

Vrek gave his mate a simple shrug, responding with, _he’s your friend. Say what you please._

Keith stared at his mate long and hard, trying to decipher what _he_ wanted. 

_I’ve shared a heat with Regris before. Despite being an insatiably horny creature, he respects boundaries and would show you a good time. He has my trust. The decision is yours, Keith._

Keith thought about it long and hard. Sure, his own sexual experiences may have grown at an exponential rate since his first heat with Vrek- but that was _with Vrek_. There was at first, an understanding with his alpha, and when the two had bonded- there was that connection: the alpha and the omega. They were _a couple_ , and Keith wasn’t sure if he wanted to let just anyone intrude on that. Still, Keith had saved Regris’ life, and Keith trusted Regris to do the same. Regris truly was his first friend here on the Marmora base, and as both his friend and his brother-in-arms, Keith knew that he could trust him implicitly. 

_Have you ever had two omegas at once?_

Keith could feel his mate’s heart skip as blood was redirected away from his brain at the mere thought of the question. _No... I have not._

“Alright, Regris…” Keith started, and everyone around them held their breath and waited for the rejection that would surely follow. “Let’s see what you got.”

The air was electric, with Regris bouncing upright and the small tuft of hair on his head raising in glee. He gingerly extended a claw out to Keith as if Keith were a butterfly resting atop a flower that Regris would not want to frighten. But he directed his question at Vrek as he asked, “May I?”

Vrek nodded to Regris. “You may.”

When Keith reached out to Regris’ hand, Regris grabbed Keith by the wrist and, in a startling display of speed, scooped up Keith in his arms bridal style. Regris leaned down to plant his lips against Keith’s, and Keith could do nothing but accept the slender, forked tongue of his amphibious colleague as it teased his own tongue and danced inside of his mouth. When Regris pulled back from the kiss, Keith was already gone: he was floating somewhere far away and he held his mouth open as if trying to invite Regris back for more. 

By the time Keith realized what he was doing and that he was doing it in clear view of every Blade on base, he buried his face against Regris’ shoulder to hide the blush that was surely painting his face. The kiss had been applauded by the Blades around them, with some jeers and whistling cheering on their intrepid comrade. 

“No?” Regris asked. 

“Yes... very much yes. But that was just… sudden.” Keith’s words were muffled as he spoke into Regris’ shoulder. 

Keith felt a familiar presence behind him as Vrek ran his own claws through Keith’s hair. “We’ll take care of you, my omega.”

And there wasn’t a doubt in Keith’s mind about that. 

Regris spun around with Keith in his arms, displaying his new prize to all the jealous Blades (both alphas and omegas alike) and declaring. “My friends… I bid you a good evening. Now I must retire, as you can see- I have _better things to do_. Ilun… if you would be so kind to get that special thing from my room and bring it to _our_ nest?”

Ilun rolled her eyes, but agreed to whatever Regris’ request was nonetheless. 

As the three exited the main hall to the stares and cajoles of their compatriots, Antok leaned his elbow against Kolivan’s shoulder to share his own private comments about the departing trio. “Regris is going to destroy that boy.”

“Do you think I should stop them?” Kolivan lifted his brow at his mate. 

“Let them have their fun. But maybe don’t count on them being active for some time.”

\---

  
The three stumbled back to their nest in the bond mate’s quarters of the base, with Regris still carrying Keith and Vrek trailing behind them. 

When they arrived at their door, Regris planted Keith’s feet on the floor and started showering the small human in kisses, his hands already working on the zipper fastening Keith’s tunic together. 

“Regris… can’t you wait… until we get inside-?” Keith made no real effort to stop Regris’ advances as the Blade’s greedy hands wandered lower and lower in his effort to undress him. 

“No.” Regris pressed his lips back against Keith’s, pushing the small human back up against the door to their room as the two continued their feverish kiss. 

Vrek opened the door, and without the support propping up his weight, Keith fell into their room with Regris, and the two staggered backwards until the floor gave way and they both landed in the nest with an egregious _‘THUD’_. Stepping past the threshold to their abode himself, Vrek dropped their duffel bag by the door and immediately began to pull at the zippers fastening his own clothes together. 

Vrek leaned down behind Regris, and slowly pulled the Aardru hybrid’s concealed zipper down the length of his spine to help him shed his uniform. Mouth trailing the zipper- Vrek laid gentle kisses down Regris’ spine, and while Regris was currently giving Keith his undivided attention, Vrek could see the effect he was having on his companion by the way his tail happily flicked and twitched.

Regris’ claws pushed Keith’s tunic up and around his shoulders, baring the pale skin to the scaly Blade. Once more of Keith had been exposed, Regris pulled his kisses away from his mouth and redirected his efforts lower. 

Before Keith even had the opportunity to lament the loss of Regris’ forked tongue down his throat, he was met with Vrek’s loving gaze staring down at him. Vrek had circled around to the ‘front’ of the nest and was crouching down by the pair’s heads, placing Keith’s face squarely between his thighs as he leaned in to kiss his mate. “My turn now.”

Keith’s tongue invited his mate into a passionate kiss. Regris’ desperate, lust-laden kisses were aggressive: with his long tongue snaking its way through Keith’s mouth in an effort to claim territory and push forward. Vrek’s kisses were tender, familiar, and somehow even a bit skittish as the two allowed each other to taste one another. If Regris could be likened to a waterfall crashing against the rocks, Vrek would be a gentle stream weaving its way through a forest. 

All Keith could do was shudder in pleasure as his mate’s passion graced his lips while another set of lips laid gentle kisses down his neck and collarbone. Regris’ allowed his tongue to slip out of his mouth and skirt its way across the soft, human skin as he lapped his way across the scent gland on Keith’s shoulder. The response was immediate, with Keith’s body shuddering under the efforts of the Aardru. 

Both Vrek and Regris revelled in the delightful gasps that we’re escaping Keith’s mouth as he whined against his mate’s lips. 

Regris moved lower, grazing his teeth off of the dip of Keith’s collarbone before lapping lower, and lower. When Regris was eye level with Keith’s chest, he stared at one of his nipples, tilting his head at the anatomy before latching on and giving the little nub a solid suck. Keith’s whole body jerked as a soft keen squeaked out of his throat.

By the time that Regris got to Keith’s stomach, he noticed that Keith’s lower half was still entirely clothed. Regris slid his fingers down the sides of Keith’s trousers, and with expert precision, peeled Keith out of both his pants and his undergarments. Keith’s very stiff cock slapped against his belly once it was free, and the poor omega whined at the utter need he was experiencing. 

Vrek pulled himself away from Keith for a brief moment, pausing to stroke the back of his fingers against Keith’s soft cheek. “Patience, darling…” Vrek shifted back, taking his face away from his mate so that he could present _something else_ to Keith’s luscious lips. Vrek was as aroused as his mate was, a fact clear to Keith as slick dripped off of his mate’s shaft and into his waiting mouth. 

_God, I think I’m starting to crave the taste of it…_ Keith’s eyes rolled back into his head as he savored the sweetness of the slick that was seeping off of his mate’s cock. 

Regris, settled between the luscious valley created by Keith’s legs, was presented with the same sort of view. Regris ducked his head under Keith’s cock to find his slit. Keith was already gushing copious amounts of slick and Regris could tell that the small Blade had started leaking ever since their first kiss, not only by the smell in the air- but by the dampness of his uniform as he held him. He smelled wonderful, and while Regris had never gotten to experience the joy of his homeworld, he guessed that the pleasantness of Keith’s arousal would be what the fresh rains of Denka would smell like. 

Darting his long, forked tongue out of his mouth, Regris licked up the inner part of Keith’s thigh- careful not to touch his folds just let. Regris licked at the inside of Keith’s legs, lapping up _juuuuust_ until he was about to make contact with Keith’s sex before turning his attention to the inner part of the opposite leg. Keith was panting, despite having most of his attention focused on running his tongue up the length of his mate’s cock as it throbbed in front of his eyes, he was desperately trying to jerk his hips in one direction or another in order to get Regris’ wonderful tongue where he wanted it. 

Regris grinned, enjoying the torment of the younger Blade. But Regris was merciful, and after a few tense moments of letting Keith feel nothing but his hot breath against his slit and the ghost of a promise of what he might do with his lovely tongue… he finally lashed out between his folds. Keith tasted even better than he smelled. 

Keith cried out, immediately reaching down to bury his fingers in the tuft of Regris’ hair as he pulled the scaled head against his crotch so that he could not escape. Thoroughly understanding the message of _‘don’t stop’,_ Regris obliged, and started spreading Keith with his tongue as if he were trying to drink every last drop of slick that was being produced. 

Vrek leaned forward and crawled over his mate’s chest, angling his hips back so that Keith would be able to take him into his mouth instead of being forced to just run his tongue along Vrek’s bumpy length. When Vrek had settled over Keith in a sixty-nine style position, Keith understood what was going to happen next. Vrek leaned down over Keith’s crotch and took his mate into his mouth. 

Keith could almost cry, he had never been stimulated so much before. Between the long tongue that was exploring its way through his slit and the hot throat of his mate enveloping his whole cock, Keith thought that he might burst into flames from the sensory overload alone. Everything was so much. Everything was _too_ _much_. He was burning up as if he were trying to catch the sun in his hands. He tried to narrow down his own experience, and instead focus on taking his mate into his throat. Keith leaned up as best he could and sucked Vrek’s cock into his mouth, there wasn’t as much grace or technique as he would’ve liked to give his mate from this position, but all he could manage was mere desperate sucking as his brain seemed to be melting under the pleasure of his two partners. 

Keith was getting close, his chest was heaving in shorter, more ragged breaths. He didn’t know whether he should be rocking his hips forward against Vrek’s mouth, or if he should be grinding down against Regris’ tongue. In the end, it wouldn’t matter- just a few more seconds of this and Keith would be a shuddering mess of orgasmic bliss. 

The door to their room chimed. Vrek’s ears perked up at the intrusion and he sat up immediately- pulling his cock out of Keith’s mouth and leaving Keith on the very edge of an orgasm. Regris pulled himself out from between Keith’s legs and bounced up to answer the door. “I’ll get it!”

“AAAAAAAHHHHHH FUUUUUUUUUCK.” Keith groaned in frustration, bringing his hands up to his face and screaming. As quickly as the pleasure had been building, it all faded away, and Keith was left with his cock standing stiff against his belly and leaking slick all over their nest. 

Regris opened the door to Ilun, who was presenting something to him. “Regris I brought you your- ANCESTORS, THEY’RE BOTH NAKED ALREADY.”

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” Regris, as shameless as he always was, wrapped an arm around Ilun’s shoulders and turned back to admire the sight in the room. Vrek was crouched over Keith, his own cock throbbing and leaking inches away from Keith’s face. Keith himself was laying out on the nest, spread-eagle and presenting himself for all to see. As Ilun shielded her eyes from the intimacy of the scene, Regris spoke. “Oh, and he tastes even better than he smells…”

Ilun shoved something small and cylindrical into Regris’ chest. “Don’t ask me to do this for you again.”

Regris responded by patting Ilun on the shoulder and scooting her out the door. “Alright, shoo… these two are mine. Go get your own.” Turning his attention back to the Alpha and Omega waiting for him in the nest, he presented what looked like a candle to the two of them.

The color drained from Vrek’s face as he saw what Regris was holding. “Oh Ancestors, Regris... you don’t mean to...”

“I do!” Regris’ toothy grin stretched its way across his face in a mischievous manner that made his Alpha companion’s blood run cold.

“Regris, no.” Vrek made one last attempt to beg his comrade for mercy. 

“Regris, yes.” There would be no mercy. Regris lit the candle with a snap between his two clawed fingers and set it down a safe distance away from their nest. He stepped out of his unzipped uniform on the way back into the nest.

Keith peeked out between his fingers to see what all the commotion was about. “What? What’s happening?”

Regris leaned back down over Keith, crawling over him until his head was resting on the human’s chest. “Tecalatrite candle. Kind of a powerful aphrodisiac. It’s meant to simulate a heat/rut-effect on Alphas and Omegas. A _much_ better substitute for Decalex. Which for Vrek means that he’ll be able to keep up with us! All… night… long.” Regris actually had the gall to _wink_ at Keith as if to punctuate his words.

 _Oh my god what have I done?_ Was the last truly coherent thought that Keith would have for the evening before a wave of deep intoxication washed over him.

Regris slid up Keith’s chest until his head came up to rest near Keith’s neck, and Keith felt something poke at his entrance. “May I?” 

Keith swallowed and nodded at the scaly head, receiving a warm smile in response. Keith attempted to lift his head up to see what kind of equipment Regris was working with, but before he could, he felt Vrek’s claws pushing his head back down. 

“My omega.” Vrek’s voice came out like a growl, and Keith realized that the overwhelming desire in his mate’s mind was accompanied by an astonishing lack of any other thoughts that might be considered rational, as everything else drifted out of Vrek’s head. Keith couldn’t _smell_ the candle, but clearly it was having the desired effect on his mate. 

Vrek traced a single clawed finger across Keith’s lips, and Keith whined and tried to suck his alpha’s finger into his mouth. Keith wanted to give his alpha the release that he needed. 

Vrek worked quickly to replace his finger with something much sweeter, and slowly pressed himself back into Keith’s mouth. Laying on his back, there was nowhere else for Keith to go, and so he just had to relax, breathe through his nose, and let his alpha push himself deeper and deeper. Vrek’s eyes were locked on Keith’s throat, watching his own length disappear into his mate’s mouth and seeing the outline of his cock bulge against Keith’s trachea. “Goooood omega…”

Regris started to push into Keith, and at first, Keith was a little disappointed- working off of feeling alone, Keith could sense Regris wasn’t as thick as he might have assumed. But then something hit him, and not only did Regris just _keep going_... but Keith could feel Regris’ cock moving inside of him as if his cock were _prehensile_. Regris didn’t even pull his hips back, he just kept pushing deeper and deeper inside of Keith and Keith had no choice but to just feel himself getting filled by the cock inside of him.

Keith could feel whatever effects of the aphrodisiac starting to work its magic. Keith started to suck on his mate with a reckless abandon, caring more about tasting his mate’s slick than he was about breathing.

The pleasure that the trio started feeling gradually amplified itself. The nerves inside of Keith were lit ablaze, as he could physically feel Regris’ cock pulsing in him, as if his cock were stretching and expanding to fill every aching need inside of him. 

Regris could feel Keith squeezing down on his length, as his tentacle-like cock filled the tightness of his human partner like nothing ever had before. Keith wasn’t anything like any of the partners Regris had had in the past. The human was so… squishy… and yielding. Any other time Regris had mated someone, there was always _a point_ where he could stop expanding himself in them, but Keith just seemed to stretch and accommodate any size Regris could push himself to. It was infuriating, as if Keith were constantly taunting him and begging him to fill him up even more.

Vrek was fully sheathed in his mate’s throat, and the powerful sucking sensation of his mate milking him was threatening him with a premature climax. If Vrek wasn’t careful, he would end up knotting his mate’s mouth. 

Regris wouldn’t stop expanding and contracting inside of Keith, and it was driving them both wild. Every time Regris’ cock filled Keith to his very core, he would feel a rippling inside of him and Regris’ dick would expand outwards, stretching the walls of Keith’s pussy in an endless burn that felt like Regris might split him in half. Keith didn’t know how long he would be here speared between his mate’s cock in his throat and Regris’ impossible dick exploring it’s way inside of him, but Keith couldn’t take the intensity of pleasures he was feeling much longer.

Regris squeezed Keith in his arms, the body that was all scales and muscles that was above him tensed and, with a soft groan, Keith could _feel_ Regris’ orgasm claim him. When Regris came, Keith could feel it fill him as his amphibious partner’s seed was dumped into him with all the pressure of a garden hose, and then- something inside of him started to _suck_ on his insides. 

Keith curled his toes as liquid heat filled his belly and Regris’ cock somehow suckled against his g-spot. He was finished. Keith’s whole body tensed as his own climax started to tear through him with an almost painful fervor. His cock, pressed up against Regris’ scaled chest started to spurt his own white seed against the two of them. The two were riding their high for a brief moment before they realized that there was still one party present still in need of finishing.

Vrek pulled his length out of Keith’s throat with a loud _‘POP’_ as Keith was still attempting to suck the life out of his mate; he wasn’t knotting, but that wouldn’t matter. Vrek’s cock was dripping with slick and saliva, and it was begging Regris to taste it. Regris leaned up off of Keith’s chest -still staying hilted inside of the human- and swallowed Vrek’s cock into his mouth and let his tongue tease all the glands alongside the pureblooded Galra’s length. Freed up by this new position, Keith propped himself up on his elbows, and buried his tongue inside of his mate’s slit as he helped bring his mate to his peak. 

When Vrek was close, he pulled himself out of Regris’ mouth and absolutely painted the two Omegas in his seed, as wave after wave of pale blue come shot it’s way across Regris’ face before splashing down against Keith’s. 

With all of them having spent themselves on and inside of each other, their pleasure should have abated. Instead, the three just wanted _more._

\---

When Regris finally pulled out of Keith, Keith was eager to find out what kind of monstrosity Regris had between his legs that had been able to torture him so. Regris sat back against one of the steps leading down into the nest, and spread his legs apart so that Keith could get a good look. Keith crawled over to Regris on his hands and knees, presenting a rather enticing view to Vrek as the pale green seed of _someone else_ dripped out of his cunt. 

Granted, that other someone was an _omega_ and not a rival alpha- but presented to him like this, with Keith so wet and so needy... it seemed as if his little human mate was teasing him. _No, no, no, this just wouldn’t do._

Vrek crawled his way behind his mate, and placed his clawed hands firmly on Keith’s hips, letting his fingers curl around the divot of his hip-bones as if they were made to be grabbed. Keith arched his back and whined a pitiful, needy mewl, and Vrek was all too happy to oblige his omega as he slid himself into his already well-used mate. 

Keith breathed a breathless sigh as Vrek slid back inside of him. After the pleasurable torment of whatever Regris had done to him, the thick hardness of Vrek plunging his way back inside of him was a welcome feeling. Keith’s eyes were locked on to the tentacle that was between Regris’ legs. It was about a foot long, very malleable, with a smooth top and an underside studded with what looked like suckers. Regris’ cock started to coil and stretch around Keith’s hand, reducing it’s girth and increasing its length as it snaked its way along Keith’s wrist. It was still coated in a thin layer of pale green come, and Keith knew he just had to know what it tasted like.

Vrek settled into a steady rhythm of thrusting into Keith, using what leverage he had with his hands wrapped around his mate’s hips to pull Keith back and impale him on his cock. Even having been thoroughly stretched and filled by Regris, Keith was still tight around Vrek’s achingly hard member. 

Keith was lapping Regris' seed, running his tongue up and down the length of the entirely alien cock. Regris’ come tasted distinctly different from Vrek’s: while Vrek’s seed was sweet with an almost spicy tinge to it, Regris’ seed tasted like the salty water of an ocean. His focus was divided, halfway between trying to make sure there wasn’t a single inch of the beautiful tentacle infront of him that went unloved, and halfway focusing on his mate savagely thrusting his hips against his own. With how the suckers on Regris’ length seemed to stick and leave small hickeys on Keith’s arm wherever it touched, and Keith doubted he could safely suck on Regris’ length. In fact, he debated how safe it had been for such a tool to even be inside him, but he knew that neither Vrek nor Regris would allow him to be hurt. Still… no sucking. This limited Keith to simply worshipping Regris with his tongue as best he could, and if the moans that were coming from Regris were any indication, then he was sure that his efforts were having the desired effect. 

With the small human omega inserted between the two much larger males, he was entirely at their whim as they rocked their hips with and against him. Above Keith’s prone form, Regris angled Vrek’s face towards his own, so that the two familiar Blades could share a wonderful kiss to themselves. Keith wasn’t sure which of his partner’s he should be more jealous of.

It didn’t take much time for the three to finish like that- with Regris’ spilling his come all over Keith’s body, and Vrek releasing a snarl as he pumped another load into Keith. Being filled from both sides, Keith couldn't help but feel himself hurtling towards his own climax as he clamped down on his mate’s cock as he rode the wave of pleasure that surged through him.

\---

The three lovers spent the duration of the night exploring each other’s bodies in an absolute tangle of limbs. The concept of time itself was a distant one, as the pleasure filled haze that clouded their every thought and prevented them from comprehending how long they had spent inside one another, creating a symphony with their moans of satisfaction.

Keith was sure to have little red hickies from the suckers lining Regris’ cock all over his body, and Keith was on a mission to discover every color that Regris’ beautiful scales could produce. Vrek was there for the two omegas: with his commanding alpha voice reducing both of their worlds to but a single order at a time. 

They had lost count of the times that they had each orgasmed; they’d tried every position one might imagine, _three times over_ to be sure that they each were given the opportunity to experience such euphoria. 

Vrek laid on his side with Regris at his back, his arms wrapped around Keith’s neck as Keith laid in front of him. Vrek was whining as his dick pressed against his mate’s chest. Keith was attempting to press his own cock into his alpha’s wet warmth, all while Regris’ own maneuverable cock was wrapped around his human girth. Keith was both fucking into his mate as well as fucking into the aardru’s cock as well, and Vrek was being speared open by the combined efforts of the two omegas. 

Not long later, Vrek was on his back, attempting to recover from what their last round had done to him. His own cock was desperately trying to keep up with the two omegas, the aphrodisiac assuring his compliance as he could feel himself hardening as Keith and Regris were crouched between his legs with each of their tongues running up and down the length of his dick. The two omegas were relentless and Vrek could almost melt under their efforts: as one mouth would suck on the tip of his length, another could lap at his thoroughly used knot. Both Keith and Regris would taste their way down every square inch of Vrek’s cock, working in tandem to make sure nothing went unloved, until they would each trade places and start the whole process anew. If there was a heaven, it wouldn’t get much better than this. 

Then, Regris was on his hands and knees as Vrek took him from behind. Vrek’s arms were clutched around Regris’ hips as he pressed his face against the larger aardru male’s back. Keith was behind his mate, lining his own length up with the now sopping wet slit of the Galra pureblood, allowing his mate to thrust himself _into_ Regris before he would pull himself back _onto_ Keith’s length.

The final activity of the night came at Keith’s behest- with his suggestion being met with a cacophony of _“are you sure’s”_ and _“is that possible’s”_ from both of his partners. With the Tecalatrite candle being almost extinguished, Keith couldn’t really blame the carnal chemical for the source of his adventurousness, but while he had two people in his nest, he was going to try it. 

And this is how Keith ended up here, cradled in the laps of both Vrek and Regris. Both Vrek and Regris were sitting on their knees, facing each other, with Keith straddling Vrek. Vrek was sore, and he didn’t know how many times he had knotted over the last few vargas, but this was sure to be the last time and he would be sure to make it count. He slid his rigid, Galra cock into Keith’s slit, and there was no resistance from the well used hole as the penetration was greeted by an absolutely revolting squelching noise as countless loads of jizz from his two partners flooded out of Keith’s cunt and around Vrek’s length. 

Keith moaned softly, as he had been fucked within an inch of his life all night- but the feeling of his mate hilting him would always warm his mind as if this were where he truly belonged. 

Regris lined himself up with Keith’s backdoor- Keith had been insistent on trying this, and with Regris able to adjust the shape of his cock to nearly any size imaginable, this would be the ideal opportunity. “I can’t say I’ve ever done this before…” Regris muttered. But it didn’t need to be said. The three had all been treading unfamiliar territory all night. 

Regris reduced his girth as much as he could, and slowly pushed into Keith’s ass. The human had already been the smallest and tightest thing that Regris had ever had the pleasure to fit himself into, and yet somehow- this hole was even tighter than the last. Keith clenched around Regris’ tentacle with an almost painful squeeze.

When Regris started to slowly increase the size of his cock, both lengthwise and widthwise, Keith began to howl. It was like nothing he had ever felt before: he was filled, _completely filled_ , in every sense imaginable. 

Regris increased his dick to what one might consider “normal” comparative to Vrek’s own size, and the two waited to allow Keith to adjust himself to their intrusion. 

“You guys need to fuck me before I die.” Keith’s voice cracked, hitting a sharp register that it hadn’t since puberty. He could barely breathe as it felt like his lungs had been pushed out of his chest, his whole body was merely a sheath for the two cocks inside of him.

Nevertheless, his two comrades agreed, and started to slowly rock their hips against his own. On a night of firsts, this pleasure seemed like the forbidden fruit for the trio. Both Vrek and Regris could _feel_ the shape of each other’s cock through the thin wall of flesh that separated Keith’s ass from his pussy. The two worked in tandem to saw in and out of their young Blade, with Vrek pulling out to allow Regris to slide all the way in, and vice versa. Soon enough, the two had found their rhythm and thrust themselves up into Keith with a steady cadence. 

Keith felt like he was going to explode from the sheer sensory overload. He was unable to even moan as each time one of his partner’s would pull out, he would be immediately met with the other slamming against the deepest parts of his being, stealing any noise from his throat before he could form it. Not even granted a chance to recover in-between thrusts, Keith couldn’t even find the time to suck in the air to give himself a chance to breathe, and instead, he just laid there- his tongue having fallen out of his mouth as he started to drool in ecstasy as he was being used. Tears started to stream down his face as he lost himself in the delightful clutches of paradise. 

Vrek’s grip tightened around Keith’s waist, as he suddenly couldn’t manage the power that was required to pull himself out of Keith. He had knotted. When Regris’ cock continued to slide into Keith’s ass, Vrek felt the pressure squeezing down on him increase tenfold, and he let himself go. Vrek came inside of Keith one last time for the night, the pressure inside his human mate already stretched to the limits with nowhere else to go, Vrek’s come seeped out of his mate’s slit to drip down into their nest. 

Whether it was the feeling of both Blades filling him at once, or the residual pleasure of his mate experiencing his own orgasm through their bond, Keith felt himself fall into sheer rapture as come dribbled out of his cock against Vrek’s chest. Unable to speak and unable to think, whatever warning Keith tried to give Vrek fell out of his mouth as an unintelligible, garbled cry. 

When Keith’s orgasm rocked through his body in steady pulses, Regris could feel the tightening around his shaft become insufferable. He couldn’t hold himself back anymore, and he filled Keith with even more of his seed. 

The three sat there, against each other- unable to do anything but take strained, shallow breaths as they all attempted to navigate their way out of their haze and back into the realm of complete thoughts and sentences. 

“Keith… are you… alright?” Vrek panted out.

“Fssshhaaaaplaaaab.” Was Keith’s response: a word that neither Vrek nor Regris could understand. 

“Oh stars, we broke Keith.” Regris flashed Vrek a toothy grin. Clearly proud of their accomplishment.

But Vrek was assured by the orange hues that skirted across his vision from his bond mate that Keith was indeed alright, and that he just now needed to recover. 

The pair waited until they could remove themselves from Keith’s holes, being met with some protests as they emptied the needy human and gently laid themselves against the nest. With Keith in the middle and both Vrek and Regris tucked under each arm, the three drifted off into a blissful sleep to the lullaby that was Vrek’s deep, contented purring.

\---

Long after the candle had burnt itself out, and whatever remnants of lust-inducing smoke had dissipated into the air recyclers, Keith could feel himself to begin to rouse from his unconsciousness. 

Regris was still fast asleep, his face still pressed up against Keith’s side as his sleeping form was accommodated with the softest of snores. 

Vrek was, of course, already awake. His Galran mate was sitting up, scrolling through his tablet with one hand, while his other was holding Keith’s hand- their fingers laced together. 

“Good morning.” Vrek whispered, conscious of the volume of his voice so as to not wake their bed mate. 

“Is it morning?” It wasn’t. It was already approaching the early evening of the following day. Keith smashed his face against Vrek’s side; while there was no natural lighting in their quarters, his actions could be compared to a child rolling over in his bed to avoid the rays of sunshine bleeding into their room. “How are you feeling?”

Vrek chuckled as softly as he could under his breath. “I should be asking you that. But I am fine. Maybe a little dehydrated. How are you, my love?”

Keith stretched his legs out, testing the feeling that he had in the lower half of his body. “I don’t think that I’ll be walking any time soon.” He looked up at Vrek. “Can you grab something out of that duffel bag for me, alpha?”

Vrek cocked his head curiously at Keith, and although he was slightly hesitant to let go of his mate’s hand, he obeyed all the same. Whatever his omega desired, he would provide. “Of course, Keith. What do you need?”

“It’s not for me. It’s for you. You’ll know it when you see it.”

Crawling to the edge of their nest, Vrek stretched an arm out and pulled the travel bag closer to him, and opened it. Whatever Keith had wanted him to grab, he assumed it would be the only thing that would seem out of place amongst the heap of clothes that they had thrown in the bag before leaving Karrahe. Sure enough, after a few ticks of digging, Vrek found a long, cylindrical, metal container: a thermos. It was his. Vrek shot Keith a questioning look, before returning to his side with the thermos. 

“Go on. Open it.” Keith encouraged. 

Vrek unscrewed the top, flipping the cap upside-down to act as a small cup for whatever contents may lay dormant inside the cylinder. Vrek would’ve partially expected the cup to be filled with more of the alcohol that the two had consumed the night prior. But that still wouldn’t have explained why Keith had taken the thermos from his apartment in the first place. When crystal clear water started to pour into the cup, Vrek’s eyes widened as all the dominoes started to fall into place. 

“Keith... is this from... when did you...?”

Keith beckoned Vrek forward so that he could place a kiss to his cheek. “Yes... it’s from that fancy, magical-looking well. And I got up early that last morning to get it. I figured, if you were homesick, that this might help.”

Vrek stared down at Keith, with nothing but pure loving admiration in his eyes. His mate was perfect, and words couldn’t describe the thoughtfulness that such a gesture entailed, or how meaningful it was to Vrek. “Darling… I’ll never know what I did to deserve such a lovely creature such as yourself.”

Keith crinkled his nose. “Vrek you literally save people’s lives and put them back together. Stop talking about yourself as if you’ve done nothing.”

Vrek took a sip from the cup before offering it to Keith. Keith was right, the water from Karrahe did taste distinctly different from anything else in space. While such nuances seemed lost on Vrek while they had been on Karrahe, being lightyears away from his homeworld, Vrek could taste the difference. This small piece of his homeworld that was brought with them was a precious memento. But if Vrek were to never see Karrahe for the rest of his days, he wouldn’t mind, as long as he had Keith with him.

“I had hoped that you might like that.” Keith took a few sips from the cup before handing it back to Vrek. “This... was nice. Exhausting, but nice.”

“Would you like to share our nest with Regris more frequently?” Vrek inquired, trying to keep the jealousy out of his voice as best he could so that he could get an honest answer out of his mate. 

“Frequently? No. For one, I don’t think my body would physically be able to handle that. And two, I like having you all to myself.”

Vrek blushed and put the thermos and it’s sentimental contents away. “And truly, after a night with Regris, our hearts are in desperate need of cleansing.”

“Yeah, our hearts aren’t the only thing. I _stink_.” Keith pressed a palm flat to his chest before removing it, the skin of his palm stuck to his chest as if both were covered in some form of adhesive. The three of them were a mess- covered in sweat and come that had caked on to them and dried in their sleep. 

“Yeah- if we even open the door to our room I’m sure Kolivan would be able to smell what we’ve been doing all night.” Vrek teased. 

“Oh please. As if there is a single person left on base that doesn’t already know what happened between the three of us last night.” Keith thought for a second, before returning to the seriousness of their conversation. “But… seriously. If you don’t mind sharing me, I won’t mind sharing you.”

Vrek considered the offer. “I wouldn’t mind, certainly. But you’re the only one that I _need_ in my life, my love.”

“Then come here and kiss me.”

“Not until you shower first.”

The two shared a laugh, and Vrek kissed his mate anyways. 

  
  


  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Artist Credit: @eeniiart on Twitter
> 
> Next up, Chapter 9: The Opportunity 
> 
> FIRST OF ALL. What do you think of Eenii’s Regris?! Oh my god, she got his little arrogant smirk down PERFECTLY and the way he curls his tail around Keith never fails to make me giggle EVERY TIME I pull up this image to admire it.
> 
> WHEW. Okay. So- this chapter kicked the crap out of me. Truth be told, I’m STILL not entirely happy with it. I’m not great at writing fluff and I’m still not confident in writing sexy-times. Regardless, I hope that despite my doubts, that this chapter was still enjoyable for you to read! 
> 
> On another note- there was A LOT of debate as to whether or not I wanted to have Kolivan say “Vrepit Sa”. Because... it’s something that’s attributed to the Galra Empire. However, I did make a specific point in previous chapters to illustrate that the Galra and the mechanics of the Empire itself are not mutually exclusive, and I wanted to take the time to remind myself and the reader that the Blades are STILL Galra. “Vrepit Sa” means something to that part of their lineage, and that as much as the Empire tries to appropriate that phrase, it doesn’t belong to Zarkon, it belongs to ALL GALRA. 
> 
> What do you think? Let me know in the comments! I always love to hear your opinions, no matter what they’re about!


	9. The Opportunity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kolivan sends Vrek and Keith on a mission that will alter the course of the universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This single chapter is what spurred me to write this entire fic, so it's incredibly important to me and it is probably the singular chapter that I am most proud of in this story. I hope that you enjoy it.

Kolivan weighed the options. 

His entire tenure as the leader of the Blade of Marmora had been a constant push and pull of risk versus reward, with the fate of his Blades hanging in the balance. 

Previous occupants of his position have attempted to implement many different types of warfare against the Galra. The initial revolt against the empire took decaphoebs: the empire’s transition from benevolent persecutor of peace to tyrannical expansionism was not an insidious one- it was a change that happened virtually overnight. Many Galra at the time of this change wouldn’t recall a singular drastic shift in the paradigm of their worlds, in fact, many Galra would recall these early days of Zarkon’s dictatorship and think only of the speeches and patriotism. The disbanding of the original Voltron Paladins did come as a shock but, blinded to corruption and ignorant to the truth, the Galra saw the execution of the former Paladins and the destruction of Altea as righteous recompense for what had happened to Daibazaal. 

But as order started to come at the cost of fear, and freedoms trampled for the sake of zeal, many began to see that the Galra Empire that they had sworn fealty to had morphed into something that they could not abide. Open revolt against the empire happened when too many idle souls saw what had been happening to the empire’s conquests. It started with political activists, and it escalated until commanders of Zarkon’s own fleet had attempted open rebellion: these few outspoken individuals would be the first to found the Blade of Marmora. The executions that followed were painful, traumatic, and televised. 

The battles that followed in the wake of these executions would be devastating, with all those who had assembled against the might of the empire being crushed against Zarkon’s merciless steel boots. 

After that, open rebellion was not an advisable recourse of action. 

And so, the Blade of Marmora changed- the experienced and the idealists would recruit the younger generations into their ranks: instilling upon them a sense of duty and moral virtue that would not tolerate the malevolence of the empire. Their mission became sabotage and their lives became secrecy. Survival became the highest priority, for without the Blade of Marmora, the fight against the Galra Empire would be entirely external, and the moral heart of those Galra men and women who would not stand for such autocracy would be entirely forgotten.

Kolivan had been, by far, the most cautious commander to ever be cursed to lead the Blade of Marmora- and it was because he considered himself weak. Kolivan had always felt too deeply and cared too much for the soldiers under his command, it was not a quality befitting someone faced with the decisions he had to make. He had tried his hardest to reduce the unknown factors for every mission he assigned: he had failsafes, backups, and exit strategies for every Blade he had stationed throughout the empire. And yet, sitting behind his desk in the safety of their base, he still felt as if he was not doing enough.

His brothers and sisters trusted him with their lives, and he would value their lives over whatever small gains the Blades would fight for on any given day. If a mission were not to go according to plan- Kolivan would scrub the mission and recall all the Blades involved. He would not send anyone to their deaths, because if he were to be such a callous executioner- then there would be no moral difference between himself and the Empire. Kolivan couldn’t lose sight of what he was fighting against. 

Admittedly, his softness is what had initially stifled generations of progress against the Empire. Some battles would need to be fought, and sometimes- it was inevitable that soldiers would die. 

The opportunity that was presenting itself now was too beneficial to ignore, and the two words that illuminated Kolivan’s screen weighed heavily in his soul because the reward would seem to eclipse any risk he could allow.

**[KRAL ZERA]**

The summons could happen at any moment. The clock was ticking and time was not in their favor.

And so, Kolivan weighed the options. 

Antok entered the room, keenly aware of the decision that had paralyzed his bond mate. “Still debating?”

“There are too many unknowns. Feyiv has always been off limits. We’ve had no scouts or operatives of any kind permitted within that sector. We don’t know the players involved and we don’t even know the board that we’re playing on. It’s too risky.” Kolivan pressed a hand against his brow, shielding himself from the glowing red letters that plagued his mind. 

“You can’t eliminate every risk, Kolivan. There are bound to be unknowns in every encounter. Every battle we’ve ever faced... there could have been one stray shot that could’ve killed you- or me. You can’t account for every shot fired.” Antok settled himself in the chair across from his mate. 

“I can try.” Kolivan sighed, the decision laid heavy upon his heart. “I can’t ask anyone here to walk into a situation without knowing anything about what could happen.”

“Kolivan, our Blades trust you completely. Even if you asked for volunteers, warning them that they might not make it back... every Blade would still offer themselves up without hesitation.”

“I know, Antok.” Their unflinching trust in him was admirable, even if he thought it misplaced. Kolivan closed his eyes and thought of the Blades under his command. They were fearless. They were loyal. They were incorruptible. They were the finest group of Galra to ever have graced the galaxy with their presence. And with a few mere words they would lay down their lives for their cause; the power that Kolivan’s words carried was not something he took lightly, and that power scared him. “They trust me even knowing that I could be sending them to their deaths.”

A long silence punctuated Kolivan’s words. And the growing stillness of the office was as uncomfortable as the decision that had to be made.

“We can’t ignore what the Kral Zera presents, Kolivan. Warlord Ranvieg would no longer oppress the far reaches… Commander Ladnok’s campaign in the Haxian Cluster would cease… Our undercover operatives would no longer be looking over their shoulders thinking that Commander Ulko is hunting them down... Think of the opportunity...”

“An opportunity that is sure to resurface old nuisances, as well.” A soft, exasperated sigh escaped Kolivan. The pain of his impending decision shone clearly on how tightly he pursed his lips, but his pain did not stretch itself to crack his steely gaze. Antok knew that Kolivan’s heartache was not imperceptible- you merely had to know where to look. 

Kolivan continued Antok’s list for him. “I imagine Commander Valx will aim to restore the dignity to her name as recompense for being stationed on the fringes of the Gamba quadrant. Commander Gnov will attempt to consolidate power, and wherever Gnov goes…”

“... Trugg will surely follow.”

“Mmmm.” Kolivan’s agreement further soured his own mood. Ire simmering behind his scowl, he cursed the game that they were forced to play. There were too many pieces. Too many pieces on a board too small to fit them all. 

Kolivan knew that Antok was right. Despite his trepidations, the opportunity could not be ignored. Not only could they eliminate all of the persistent troubles that have been haunting Kolivan for decaphoebs, but with no one left vying for power- the Empire would be over. Even if it ended up costing the lives of dozens of Blades, if this mission was a success, many would deem it worthwhile. And only Kolivan would call it a loss, for he knew that the universe would not shine as brightly if even one of his Blades were killed.

“I can’t choose.” Kolivan looked up at his mate.

“The mission is entirely unknown... you need to send the two Blades that can make the correct decisions without having any of the puzzle pieces.” They both knew who they were talking about.

“They’re just kits, Antok.”

“They’re all just kits to us, Kolivan.”

He was right. It felt wrong to send two so young on what could at any point turn in to a suicide mission. But _he was right_. Keith would make better decisions in the moment than Kolivan ever could, and sending him along with his bond mate would ensure that he had both back-up, and technical precision. “Fine. Keith and Vrek. Who else?”

“Someone that has an understanding of the gravity of what is at stake. Someone who has an intimate background with Galra history and will not let the mission out of their sight.”

“Ilun, then. She was a historian. She’ll know how important this is.” Kolivan waved the three names up on his monitor, and stared at them as if they were an obituary.

The team was assembled. The options were weighed. The lives of three Blades against the empire’s entire command structure. It was a sacrifice that Kolivan would have to live with, if necessary. 

The mission was a go.

\---

Kolivan had summoned both Keith and Vrek to a small, secluded shuttle bay located at the bottom of the base. 

[REPORT TO HANGAR ZULU-FIVE IMMEDIATELY. FULL COMBAT GEAR. DO NOT INFORM ANYONE OF YOUR DESTINATION]

The message had been odd, and both Keith and Vrek had exchanged confused glances with each other, but obeyed their orders nonetheless. Something big was happening. The two Blades dressed in their uniforms -with Keith attaching his knife to his belt and Vrek slinging his around his shoulder- and headed to the shuttle bay. 

On their way to the shuttle bay, Keith and Vrek were met with an equally confused Ilun, who was also unaware of what was transpiring. The three whispered amongst each other when it was clear that they were all summoned for the same mission- boarding the final elevator that would take them down to their destination. 

“Do you know what’s happening?” Vrek asked. 

“No. But there are only a handful of things such secrecy could point to.”

The elevator door opened out into a small hangar, with Antok and Kolivan standing in front of a small transport craft. There was no greeting and there were no formalities. The three Blades stood at attention a few feet away from their leader.

“Thank you for gathering here at such short notice. An opportunity has presented itself that we cannot ignore. Unfortunately, such circumstances do not lend themselves well to our typical modus operandi. You will be provided with the name of the Galra Battlecruiser that can take you to your destination. We have no plan of action for you to board the cruiser itself, no plan of action once you reach your destination, and no formal extraction plan. You will be expected to improvise this entire operation: there will be no contingencies, no communication, and no back up. Do you understand what I am asking of you?” Kolivan spoke with the air of someone who was saying ‘goodbye’ but couldn’t quite form the word itself. 

Nevertheless, the three responded with an enthusiastic “Yes, sir.”

“Good. You will be meeting our operative aboard a Galra Class Battlecruiser called _‘The Adjudicator’._ Antok will fly you to the ship’s next known port of harbor. From there, you will be on your own.” Kolivan took a singular deep breath, and uttered the next words as if he would never see the three Blades again. “Good luck.”

Together, Vrek, Ilun, and Keith boarded the small shuttle behind Antok. Once aboard and seated, Keith let the words of Kolivan’s briefing wash over him. For as much as Kolivan had said- he hadn’t really told them anything about where they were going, what their mission was, or what any of this secrecy was about. It was as if merely mentioning a single modicum of detail about the operation would jinx it and doom it to fail. Vrek caught Keith’s hand as the two took their seats in the small aft area of the transport, and gave his mate the gentlest of squeezes as if to reassure him that he was here with him. If they were going to be sent on a suicide mission, at least it would be together. 

_We could be walking into the gates of hell._ Keith thought out at his mate, trying his best to return Vrek’s assurances with a smile of his own. 

Despite not knowing that exactly ‘hell’ was, the connotations of their mission implied nothing pleasant. _Then at least we’ll be doing it together. I’ll watch your back-_

 _\- And I’ll watch yours_. Keith returned the thought. Regardless of what they faced, he knew that he would be able to rely on Vrek. 

\---

As the three sat in the back of the transport, they attempted to devise a plan with what little information they had. 

They had no information about the final destination of “ _The Adjudicator_ ”, only that it would be docking at the Universal Station before heading out to restricted space. 

“Surely, it can’t be that easy…” Keith murmured, recalling the Paladin’s mission to the Universal Station, early during his days as the Red Paladin. It had been Keith’s first time facing off against a druid, and the memory of that fight sent a cold shiver up his spine as he remembered the burning of his hand and his frantic attempt to stay alive until Pidge had been able to rescue him. 

Both Vrek and Ilun looked up at Keith, as if inquiring as to what idea he could possibly be forming in his head.

Vrek felt his mate’s tremor of fear at the nightmarish memories that resurfaced, and before Vrek could ask Keith what plans he might be devising for their mission, he checked in on his mate’s own well-being. _Darling? Are you alright?_

Keith hesitated. He could feel his hand going numb, as if merely conjuring the druid in his memory was enough to reopen old wounds. _I’m fine, babe_. 

“When we first discovered that the empire was harvesting Quintessence,” Keith began out loud. “We managed to sneak Shiro aboard a Galra Cruiser from this station.”

“What? How?” Ilun furrowed her brow, wondering what manner of Voltron planning that was used to accomplish such a feat. 

“It was simple. We just… crammed him into a box and walked him through the front door.” Keith held up a finger matter-of-factly. 

“In to… a box?” Ilun stared at Keith with a level of disbelief. 

“There were no scans for life signs, and no personnel that inspected the box. We should be able to cram ourselves into their supply crates, and have the sentries carry us aboard with the rest of the supplies.” Keith shrugged. It was the only idea that they had. 

“There is no way that such a plan would work. It’s so… easy.” Ilun pulled up a readout of a typical Galra battlecruiser, scanning for any other possible entries that they might be able to exploit. 

Vrek sided with Keith. “I see no reason why it shouldn’t work. Sentries don’t have much cognitive processing power. They run on a simple form of subroutines. If they’re instructed to transport an item from one point or another, there would be nothing that would tell them to inspect the contents of the boxes. And it’s likely such a menial task that the empire wouldn’t devote soldiers to. I say we go for it.”

Vrek would always side with Keith. 

“Well then. Once we’re on board the ship, we’ll need to make contact with our brother-in-arms, and stow away someplace safe.” Ilun presented the schematics of the cruiser to her comrades. 

The three listed off possible hiding places. Escape pods would be too exposed. Weapons storage could have guards posted. Engine rooms would be highly monitored. Their list was dwindling now. 

“Air vents?” Ilun offered.

Keith appreciated the sentiment, recalling his father’s favorite action movies back on Earth with the heroes evading capture and sneaking around via the usage of oversized air ducts. 

In the end, it was Vrek who found their solution. “There. Droid maintenance conduits. It’s located above this access terminal and runs through the bow of the ship. It’s only used to transport defective sentinels to their repair bay. It can access all major areas of the ship -from the bridge to the hyperdrive relay- and is devoid of sensors and organic life… although… it might be a little cramped.”

“Then we have our entry plan. Now we just have to figure out what it is we’re up against, and how we’re getting out.” Ilun stated. 

\---

Infiltration of the Universal Station was easy, Antok had dropped them off on the dark side of the asteroid, and masked their approach with radiation flares from passing comets. Without so much as a word, the three Blades disembarked their transport and headed out towards the station. From here on, they would be on their own. 

The station itself, for being so secretive, hadn’t updated it’s security protocols since the last time Keith was here. The guards here were lazy, complacent in the ease of their position and confident in letting sentries do most of their work for them. Dodging through hallways and timing their steps against the patrols that monitored them, the trio had no trouble finding the “ _The Adjudicator_ ” as it docked with the station. 

“That’s our target. As soon as it docks, we go.” Ilun stated once they had eyes on the battlecruiser.

Hiding in the ceiling panels, the strike team waited until a detachment of sentries exited the ship and, from their vantage point- were able to follow the sentries to the appropriate storage room that seemed to house the supplies that they needed. Vrek had been right, the empire wouldn’t waste soldiers on such menial labor, and with the amount of cargo that had to be displaced, it was sure to take the sentries more than a few trips. 

Once the first group of sentries had left with their containers, the three worked quickly- dropping down from the ceiling so that they could remove whatever supplies were actually filling these boxes so that they could find sanctuary in them. 

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Ilun asked, staring at the boxes in doubt.

“Trust me,” Keith responded. _It’s going to work_.

 _I know it’s going to work_. Vrek’s confidence in Keith made him feel invincible. 

Like clockwork, the next detachment of sentries arrived and carried the proverbial trojan horses into the cargo hold of “ _The Adjudicator_ ”. And just like that, they were in. 

“Good tip, Earthling…” Ilun doubts now quelled, that marked one uncertainty as being behind them. They still had an immeasurable amount of variables to account for. The best they could do was tackle them one at a time.

Searing worry coursed through Vrek’s veins, flashing panic in Keith’s mind seconds before the distinctive whirring of a plasma rifle echoed behind Ilun. 

Vrek’s blade was unsheathed in an instant, with Keith’s knife being readied instinctively from his mate’s warning. Vrek was about to move, ready to close the distance between them and their assailant if the soldier so much as _thought_ about aiming his weapon at Keith. 

Ilun didn’t draw her blade, she instead turned to face the threat that had presented itself. The air stilled for a brief moment before she was able to recognize the scarred Galra soldier that had caught them. She knew him, and she knew that this would be their contact.

“Follow me.” Their brother stated.

Keith couldn’t imagine undercover work. It was something that, thankfully, due to his appearance- he was ineligible for. The constant worry of living a double life would be something that he wouldn’t be able to do. He was cautious, but he knew that if faced with living a lie- he would slip up. He did not envy any Blade that was stationed within the empire. For Keith, his biggest fear was that Vrek might one day be a candidate to work deep cover within the Galra fleet. He knew that his mate would serve his duty to the Blades without hesitation, but Keith would beg and grovel and relinquish any form of dignity he had at Kolivan’s feet if it would prevent his mate from being willfully placed in the clutches of the empire. 

Their fellow Blade led them through a memorized path, being sure to avoid any sentry patrols that could have seen them. They knew that this was a practiced route for the agent, for this was the same route he would take to escape if he had been compromised.

Once the Blades had ducked into a small terminal access room, their contact spoke. “This shaft will take you directly above the bridge.” It was the same conduit that Vrek had recommended, so far, their plan was working perfectly. 

“Thank you, brother.” Ilun spoke for all of them. Their work wouldn’t be possible without the bravery of their undercover agents. 

Indistinct chatter started to echo down the hallway. “... The Archivist is taking too long to start the ceremony.” A deep gravelly voice that their comrade would recognize as Warlord Ranveig himself. They had seconds before their cover was blown and the warlord entered the room. Despite that panic, the warlord seemed to be divulging some rather crucial information; whatever Ranveig was saying, he was not being quiet about it, and his voice carried enough for even Keith’s dull sense of hearing to pick up. 

“The Archivist?” Keith’s worry was eclipsed by his curiosity. What had Kolivan sent them to do? What was it that they were walking into?

“Hurry!” Panic was evident on their brother’s face. If the four of them were caught together, surely they would all be killed. The fate that befell those who betrayed the empire was not one that the four Blades wished to experience for themselves. A work camp or the gladiatorial arena would be a fate too kind for the members of Blade of Marmora.

 _Don’t worry about that right now_. Vrek chided his mate’s curiosity, there would be a time for questions, and that time was not now. Taking a running start, Vrek pushed off of the floor and, with two mighty steps, scaled the wall to clear their way into the access conduit. Turning back, he held his hand out of the shaft for his mate to grab. _Keith, now!_

Keith was athletic, but he could by no means clear the 6 meters from the floor to the ceiling. Taking a running start, he kicked off the wall and jumped as high as he could, and of course- Vrek was there to catch him, and pull him into the conduit with him. Once Keith was safe from view, the two bond mates cleared the entryway of the shaft, and Ilun followed suit. To say that they had cut it close would be a dramatic understatement. Warlord Ranveig was entering the room as Ilun was replacing the access cover, and Keith could catch but a glimpse of their Blade brother as sweat dripped off of his brow. Whatever Ranveig had just ordered him to do, he clearly hadn’t heard it. His entire focus was preoccupied with making sure that the four had not just been made.

The three trekked down the cramped corridor to make their way across the bow of the ship, until they had reached the bridge. It had taken them no considerable amount of time, having been forced to both crawl on their hands and knees and remain relatively silent, but eventually they had made it to the bridge, and from here- they would be able to spy on Ranveig’s every command to find out just where it was they were going, and what it was they were expected to do.

Ranveig had a tendency to ramble, Keith expected that he was the type of person who loved the sound of his own voice, and would subject all those under his command to long winded bouts of his own self-righteousness. Most of what Ranveig had said was lost on Keith- lots of vocabulary about Galra conduct that Keith wouldn’t bother to try understanding without more context. But soon enough, Ranveig said something of note.

“Set a course for Planet Feyiv.” Well... now they had their destination. “It is time for me to burn with the glory of the Kral Zera, and take my place on the Galra throne.”

Regardless of context, THAT sounded important. “Kral Zera? Planet Feyiv? What’s going on?” Keith looked at Ilun for explanation, and Vrek looked at Ilun in disbelief: one asking what they were here for, and the other asking if _this_ could truly be the reason _why_ they were here. 

“This is our time to strike. We will bring the Galra Empire down.” Was the only response Ilun gave, and Keith looked to his mate to provide him with a more helpful answer. 

Vrek turned his gaze from Ilun to Keith. They had been selected for what might be the most important operation that the Blades have ever undertaken. 

_Keith… this could end the war_. Thoughts raced across Vrek’s mind: a future that he could have beyond this struggle, a future that he could have with Keith. Somewhere in his hopes, he could see a small cabin, with maybe a child or two of theirs being chased around the living room. 

But Vrek was getting ahead of himself. For now, they needed to survive their mission, then they could start thinking about what they could name their kits.

“The Kral Zera is the coronation of a new Galra Emperor.” Vrek spoke in a hushed tone, crossing the small, cramped corridor to take Keith’s hands in his own. 

“Okay... so who is going to be chosen? Are we taking them out?” Keith tilted his head, not truly understanding the gravity of what was in play. 

“There will be a fight. Every Galra commander eyeing the throne will be at this ceremony. _Every_ prospective new Zarkon will want to ascend the steps of destiny. We can take them _all_ out in one fell swoop.” Vrek’s own excitement was seeping into his voice. Excitement not for the carnage that would soon be upon them, but for the possibilities henceforth. 

“With… with no one left who _wants_ the power… the empire will crumble.” Keith was putting all the pieces together in his head, and he too began to see the brightness that tomorrow held. 

Vrek nodded at his mate. Their struggle would soon be over. Happily ever after was just around the corner. 

“So what’s our plan of attack?” Keith asked.

“Simple,” Vrek replied, turning to look at Ilun for confirmation on what he knew would have to be done. “We blow them all to hell.”

“Finally.” A very eager Keith allowed himself to smile. A smile that his mate could feel through their bond, even if he couldn’t see it behind his face mask.

\---

Feyiv was a beautiful and desolate world.

Mountaintops peaking high above the clouds as if reaching out for the heavens themselves. The planet was cold, with snow constantly drizzling down and blanketing the ground in clean white. This was the first world that the Galra had conquered. It was sacred ground for them. This was where the Galra _Empire_ began: this snowy, empty world was the tabula rasa that reforged the Galra’s nature as explorers into that of conquerors. 

The Blades had snuck their way onto Ranveig’s personal shuttle with ease. 

“Alright,” Ilun held up a detonator, reviewing the plan with her brothers. “When we get down there, set one explosive on each load-bearing beam.”

They stowed themselves away in the landing gear of the ship, and ditched the craft just before touch-down. They had made it to the surface. With any luck, their plan would be set in motion, and the three would be able to make their way back to commandeer Ranveig’s personal shuttle from its meager set of guards in order to make their way back to coalition space. The plan was perfect in its simplicity.

Once inside the foundation of the structure, they worked quickly. Perhaps this ground was held in such high regard to the Galra that they had thought it impervious to sabotage, or perhaps areas that would normally be host to guards were abandoned so that every Galra present could lay their eyes on who would be their new emperor. Regardless of the reason, the Blades were able to work unimpeded.

Ilun took the wall opposite Keith and Vrek, and Vrek trailed closely behind his mate. With Keith laying an explosive on every other column and Vrek placing his own explosives on the columns Keith was intentionally skipping over- the two bond mates had completed their side of the level while Ilun was still halfway done with hers. They didn’t wait. There was too much work to be done and too much at stake to dally.

Vrek and Keith both ascended the next flight of stairs to begin their work on the floor above them. Surely, what had already been placed could bring down the colosseum above them- but Keith had wanted to send the Galra commanders to their deaths not falling with the rubble, but in a glorious blaze of all-consuming fire. If this were to be the end of the empire, let it go out with a bang. The two started to lay their charges on the floor above them, and the floor above that, and soon enough... the entire structure was rigged to go to hell in a handbasket. 

When they had reached the top level, Ilun began to strike the match that would put an end to a millennia of suffering. “Activating the timer on the explosives.” This was it. They would be on a shuttle and be out of here, with the Galra empire going up in flames behind them, leaving only a ruined monument of sin in their wake. 

The Blades began to descend every level back down the structure, sprinting past every explosive lined column as their bombs twinkled with the lights signaling that they were armed. When Vrek and Keith looked back down the darkened hallway and were greeted only with the faint glimmering of lights, it reminded them both of the diamond-walled spa that they had visited back on Karrahe. Maybe they’d go back there... once all of this was over. 

They were in the clear. They were home free. The end of the war was within reach.

That’s when Keith heard it: the one noise he shouldn’t have heard. The one noise that had brought him so much reassurance in the past. The noise that was embedded in the very depths of his soul to mean _comfort,_ and that help was here. 

Keith heard the unmistakable roar of the Black Lion. 

_No_. Keith thought. _No... he... he shouldn’t be here. Why are they here?_

Perhaps he’d misheard. He had to have misheard. They couldn’t be _here_. But he needed to be sure that what he had heard hadn’t just been his imagination. Keith turned, and instead of continuing his path following Ilun, Keith banked left and headed outside. He needed to see for himself.

 _Keith!_ Vrek tried to call his attention through their bond. They had no time to linger. They needed to get out, now. Vrek stopped dead in his tracks and turned to chase after his mate. _Keith!_

Fear was causing Keith to run faster and faster. The burning strain in his legs forgotten as he pushed his body to the limits. He needed to see. He needed to see with his own two eyes. 

When Keith had skidded to a stop in a small outcropping on the outside of the colosseum, he felt his heart stop as his very worst fears were confirmed. 

“Shiro…” _No_. They had just wired this place to blow sky-high, and now Shiro was standing directly on top of what was soon to be a massive crater. “Ilun! Vrek! We have to stop! Shiro is out there!”

When Vrek caught up to his mate, he turned to see the Black Lion. It was his first time seeing it in person, and while it’s visage was awe-inspiring, this was not the place he wanted to be seeing it. _No... Ancestors, no. Why now?_

“It’s too late! My bombs are armed and the timer is set. The operation is a go.” Ilun’s words were spoken with such finality that it was as if there was truly nothing that could be done. 

Vrek stared at Keith, he had no words for his mate. The conflict that was boiling within his human bond mate was threatening to shake him apart. When Keith was finally able to tear his eyes away from the black lion, Vrek could feel the tears that were welling up behind Keith’s mask.

 _Vrek, please. We have to stop this_ … His thoughts were desperate. He was pleading. 

Vrek didn’t have any other choice. _Then we’ll stop it. Let’s go. We need to work quickly_. 

The detonators that they had were not built with a master-failsafe in mind, as they operated on a ‘set-it and forget-it’ mentality; they would have to deactivate all the explosives individually. What had taken them more than half a varga to set up, they now had to dismantle within the span of the next 10 doboshes. 

Keith and Vrek worked as fast as they could, both taking opposite ends of their current level and working back towards each other to disable the explosives. Once they had finished, they worked their way up to the next level and began the process over again. 

_7 doboshes remaining_. 

The next level was smaller, and as they ascended the levels, the space within the halls decreased as they scaled the pyramid-like structure. _Good,_ Vrek thought. _Less space, less columns, less explosives, more time._

One more level done. 

_6 doboshes remaining._

“What are you doing?!” Ilun came sliding to a halt around the corner. “We have to go!”

“NO! Shiro and Lotor are up there!” Keith didn’t spare the second to even look at Ilun. Right now, their time was too precious, and they couldn’t waste it. 

Ilun knew that the two didn’t stand a chance. There was no possible way for them to work fast enough, even if she had helped. It was time to go. If they didn’t leave now, none of them were leaving at all. “Then you’ll die with them.” Ilun clipped off her last words as she turned to head for Ranvieg’s shuttle. Of course, she didn’t _want_ to leave her two brothers behind, but she knew that Vrek wouldn’t be convinced to leave his mate’s side, and she had no intention of dying along with the remnants of the empire.

_5 doboshes remaining._

“Ilun!” Keith called after their comrade. He would ask her to stay and help them, perhaps- with the three of them working together they could-

 _Let her go! Focus on the task at hand._ Vrek was already working frantically, and they couldn’t spare the time to argue with Ilun- not when time was already against them.

A mere matter of seven button presses is what was required to render each explosive inert. It was a simple matter of math. It took only a tick to arm the bombs. It took 4 ticks to disarm the bombs. Both Vrek and Keith were working as fast as they could, but there simply wasn’t enough time. 

Another level down. Four more levels above them, perhaps another five below them. They wouldn’t make it down all the levels of the temple, but they could try to mitigate the damage done. 

_3 doboshes remaining._

When Keith and Vrek made it up to the next level, Vrek’s mission timer alerted them to the imminent detonation of the explosives. They were out of time. Vrek snatched his mate’s hand before he had made it to the first column. 

“Keith, we need to get out. There are too many, and we don’t have the time.”

“We can’t! Shiro’s up there! If these go off... he could die!” Keith ripped his hand out of his mate’s grasp and ran over to deactivate the next explosive. 

“Keith, if we stay here, _we_ _could die_.” Vrek took two strides to catch up with his mate.

_2 doboshes remaining._

Keith was being torn apart by a decision that he couldn’t possibly be expected to make: it was Shiro’s life, or the lives of himself and his mate. _Vrek, I can’t let him get hurt. I can’t let anything happen to him. I have to try. I have to do something._

 _I know how you feel._ Vrek empathized with his mate, more so in this moment than perhaps ever before. It was because he knew precisely how Keith felt that he had hoped that one day, Keith might be able to forgive him for what he was about to do. 

Vrek wrapped an arm around Keith’s waist, and dragged him away from the detonator.

“Vrek! Vrek! What are you doing?! Put me down!” Keith screamed at his mate. He planted his feet against the stone floor and he tried to grab at something that would slow his forced retreat. But his flailing was useless, as his hands could grasp nothing but the freezing air in front of him.

Vrek lifted his small human mate off of the ground, and started carrying him back down the stairs so that they could make their way out the closest exit. Perhaps the explosion on the floor below them would be less devastating having been cushioned by three levels of inactive detonators. 

Keith was thrashing around, kicking and screaming against his mate. Keith was begging. He was crying. “Please, Vrek! We can’t just leave him! _Please!_ ”

Vrek could feel his mate falling apart, and it was breaking his heart. _Please forgive me for this, my love_.

As much as it pained him to have to ignore his mate’s pleas, Vrek had to remain strong. He couldn’t give in to Keith’s words no matter how many tears he shed as he beseeched Vrek to put him down. His mate was in danger, and he had to save him, even if Keith didn’t want to be saved. 

_1_ _dobosh remaining._

Vrek could see daylight, and he was dragging them down a long hallway that would lead them outside. Keith was still struggling against his arms. _I’m sorry, Keith. But this is for your own good._

“NO! VREK-”

The explosion that followed them was caught first as a tremor, and then as a roar. The levels beneath them detonated, and Vrek could feel the explosion beneath his feet as the ground shifted and the structure resettled. The _‘BOOM’_ that erupted from the four levels above them thundered in their ears moments before the shockwave sent them hurtling off their feet. The two were thrown down the hallway and into the open colosseum. 

The weightlessness took a second to register. One moment, Vrek had been dragging his mate to safety. The next, Keith was torn out of his arms and both of their bodies were flung through the air like leaves in a summer breeze. Both Blades smashed against the ground and rolled to a stop. They were already battered and bruised from the impact against the ground and the shockwave that had carried them off of their feet.

Vrek’s vision took a tick to recalibrate. When his focus returned, he found himself on his back, staring up at the sky as Galra battlecruisers began to fire on each other. The enormity of the situation was lost on Vrek; the Galra empire was tearing itself apart in a savage bid for power, and yet there was but a single thought that preoccupied his mind: _Keith?_

Vrek rolled on to his side, desperately scanning the area around him for his mate. There, ten meters beyond where he had fallen, was the small form of a black-suited Blade. He wasn’t moving, but he could still feel Keith’s presence in his mind. Scrambling to his feet, Vrek rushed to his mate’s side. “Keith!”

The impact against the ground had shorted out the hologram projecting Keith’s face mask, and Vrek deactivated his own so that he could meet his mate’s violet eyes with his own golden ones as Keith blinked away the minor injuries he had sustained. Keith was fine. _Thank the ancestors_. The concern in Vrek’s eyes disappeared as he pulled Keith into a tight embrace, burying his nose against his neck and tangling one of his hands in Keith’s silky black hair. He was still here with him _. I thought I almost lost you_.

Keith rose slowly, with his mate helping him to his feet. The first thing that he noticed was the Black lion soaring up in the skyline, dancing amongst the Galra battlecruisers. It was a fight that Keith could recall all too vividly. Shiro was safe (relatively) but that still didn’t excuse how _fucking livid_ he was with Vrek at this very moment. The second thing that he noticed was that the two Blades were _surrounded_ by Galra soldiers. 

His anger could wait. The two were going to need to fight their way out. The steps of destiny behind them were largely intact, with portions of the structure having crumbled away and massive amounts of it still lit aflame. They had done damage, but- for better or worse, the two had prevented most of the damage before it had blown back upwards and killed them all. 

The was a singular moment of stillness as the soldiers and commanders around them stared at the two in utter disbelief. Both in disbelief that the two saboteur’s would emerge within a crowd of the most battle-hardened Galra across the known universe, and in disbelief that the two would have the gall to vandalize the most sacred grounds of the empire during one of their most precious traditions. 

Vrek and Keith met the golden gazes of a few of the commanders that surrounded them, and then there was chaos. 

The two Blades readied their knives, with Vrek standing a head above his mate with a hand to Keith’s shoulder, and Keith brandishing his knife and defending his alpha. They had trained for these types of insurmountable odds, and they were ready. 

The first attacker ran up towards the two with a massive greatsword, bringing the sword up above her head so that she could bring her steel crashing back down upon the two. Vrek’s knife caught the top of the greatsword and instead of attempting to block the strike, he helped the Galra commander with the follow-through; Vrek used all of his considerable effort to push the sword down so that when it missed Keith and impacted in to the ground, the sword would be trapped in the rubble. Panic swept over the Galra commander’s face in the tick it took her to realize that she could not free her sword from the ground. The Blades had trapped her while she was in striking distance and had left her utterly defenseless. Keith swung his knife upwards, extending it into its full sword on the draw and slicing clean through the Galra’s chest.

Their next set of attackers were two low-ranking officers, attacking them from both sides or- perhaps attacking each other and catching Keith and Vrek in the crossfire. Regardless, Vrek and Keith stood back to back, with Keith locking his shin behind his mate’s calf so that the two could remain in contact as they blocked in near unison and quickly dispatched the Galra soldiers. 

The next attack came from Commander Trugg- a legendarily fierce fighter amongst the Galra. Wielding two axes, Trugg leaped at the two Blades, bringing her axes down between the two in an effort to split them apart.

It worked. Keith dove in one direction, and Vrek in the other. 

With Trugg focusing on the smaller of the two, she aimed her blades at Keith. Before Vrek could make his way to Keith’s side, he encountered problems of his own, as he was ambushed by two Galra soldiers and their superior, Commander Gnov. The three imperial soldiers brandished short swords of their own and engaged him in battle. 

Trugg was good, it was taking all of Keith’s effort to parry her strikes. Trugg brought down her axes in quick succession, delivering a flurry of blows that were meant to devastate and overwhelm her opponent. 

_Patience yields focus._ Keith blocked out the world around him, and gave himself the focus that he needed to single out each strike before they had a chance to connect. Her defense was tight, she left no openings, and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to land a singular fatal strike on her. Keith knew that, at best, he would be able to slow her down and, right now- that would be enough. 

When Trugg brought one of her weapons down towards Keith’s shoulder, Keith stepped in towards her and grabbed her large wrist with one hand while simultaneously bringing his own knife up to slice at the inside of her forearm. 

“You little-!” Trugg was outraged, and Keith rolled out of her reach just as she swung horizontally for his head. Keith dropped to the floor and held his knife up, and Trugg’s own swing brought her arm straight across the tip of Keith’s blade, spilling her purple blood against the floor. The Galra commander dropped one of her axes as she seethed with pain. But her pain only pushed her harder as she lept back into action against the young Blade with her remaining axe. 

Vrek was bouncing blows off of each of the Galra soldiers that were attempting to strike at him with their swords. When one of the soldiers got particularly cocky in their advance, they stepped forward and attempted to jab at Vrek. _This was his opening._

Quickly side-stepping the soldier’s thrust, Vrek locked his knife against the crossguard of the soldier’s extended sword and swept at the back of his outstretched leg. The Galra soldier canted forward just far enough so that he would act as a shield for Vrek when Gnov thrust her own short sword towards him. In her attempt to kill Vrek, Gnov impaled her own lieutenant; Commander Gnov barely broke her stride as she pushed the dead Galra off of her own sword and continued her advance against Vrek.

_Now it was down to two._

This battle was a bit more manageable; Gnov was erratic, but she broadcasted her strikes before she attacked, making her easy for Vrek to predict. Vrek used the focus of their attacks against them, as he constantly stepped inside the other Galra soldier’s striking distance so that he would put the soldier between himself and Gnov. After seeing what had happened to his cohort, this made the Galra soldier jumpy as he would hop out of the way of Gnov’s path whenever Vrek was able to place him in the intersection. 

When the soldier got particularly jumpy, Vrek saw another opportunity. The soldier was more concerned with Gnov than he was with Vrek, and it left him open to attack. Once the soldier was between them, Vrek stepped in towards the soldier and spun on the balls of his feet, spinning past the inside of the Galra’s reach and quickly slipping his knife between the breast plate and back plate of the soldier’s armor. Vrek had inserted the blade cleanly through the gap in the soldier’s armor, and punctured a whole mess of vital organs that lay tucked behind his rib cage. The soldier dropped his sword, clutched at his side, and fell to the ground before Vrek had completed his maneuver. 

When Vrek stopped spinning, he was just out of reach of Commander Gnov. 

Gnov and Vrek stood facing each other. With both of their weapons held in outstretched arms, barely reaching their opponents throat. The air between them froze. Her eyes locked on his as her sword was mere inches away from the saboteur’s throat, and the saboteur’s knife a mere few inches from her own. “It seems like we are at a standoff.” A smile played across the Galra commander’s face. But her smile was premature, and her appraisal of the situation couldn’t be more inaccurate. 

“No.” Vrek scoffed. “We’re really not.” With a single thought, Vrek’s luxite blade extended from its knife-form into its machete-form, and without even having to move- speared clean through the Galra commander’s throat. Gnov dropped her short sword and brought both of her hands to her throat in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. She would need a good medic if she were to survive, but Vrek had more pressing concerns. 

Vrek turned from left to right, seeking out his mate. 

_There._ He saw that Keith was retreating, backing up as Trugg continued to advance towards the small human- swinging her axe wildly and growing increasingly frustrated that she couldn’t end this young Blade.

When Trugg reared back to take another swipe at him, Keith dove between the Galra commander’s legs and hopped to his feet in the Galra’s blind spot. Keith brought his heel into the back of the Commander’s knee, and brought Trugg down to his level with a simple kick. He looped an arm up under Trugg’s axe equipped grasp and wrapped his other arm around Trugg’s exposed throat. Nearly paralyzed and helpless, Trugg had no leverage to guard herself against the Blade’s headlock, and quickly found herself running out of air to breathe.

Once Trugg’s pitiful flailing came to a slow halt and her heavy body limp in Keith’s arms, Keith dropped the unconscious Galra commander on to the floor with a resounding _‘THUD’_. 

It took Keith a full second to recover, but in that time- he had left himself exposed. He wouldn’t have enough time to respond to the threat of the machete wielding Galra commander that was now within arms reach of him-

“YUEREK! STOP!” Keith recognized his mate’s voice as Vrek called out to the Galra that was about to slice him in half. 

The Galra hesitated mid-swing, instinctively pausing at hearing such a desperate plea from someone who had clearly recognized her. 

Keith used this interruption to dodge out of the way of the impending strike, and reunite himself with his mate. 

Together once more- Keith and Vrek stood side to side, their adrenaline still pumping through their veins from the nonstop action. 

Keith wouldn’t recognize this particular commander from any of the briefings he’s had previously, but the _name_ that his mate yelled struck a familiar chord in his memory. And yet, it was the regret that was permeating from his mate’s clenched fists that tipped Keith off to who it was they were up against. This was Vrek’s sister. 

Studying the commander in front of them, Yuerek had a very similar bone structure to Vrek’s. Her fur and hair were identical in both color and cut and she too, had the pupil-less Galra eyes that glowed in this dim lighting. The only thing that separated the features of the sister from the brother, was the fact that Yuerek looked like she had a muscle-mass that would rival both Vrek and Keith combined. She was huge, with her square frame being properly filled out with barely contained power.

The expression of the Galra commander upon seeing her brother on the battlefront morphed from that of confused recognition to that of unbridled rage. She broke into a sprint heading straight for the pair.

“Vrek, what do we do?” Keith’s eyes darted to his mate- briefly risking taking his focus off of their opponent to check in with Vrek. 

Vrek’s response was clipped and curt. “Just cover for me.”

Yuerek’s actions were similar to that of Vrek’s- her swings precise and as calculated as a game of chess- with each dodged attack curving itself into a rebound from another angle. There was no wasted movement in her actions- if Vrek and Keith avoided a jab, she would twist the blade outwards to try to glance off of the Blades before they could recover from her initial attack; if Yuerek swung her machete towards them, she would take a step forward and spin on her heels to follow that up with another attempt before stepping back in to a ready stance. 

“Yuerek you don’t need to do this!” Vrek attempted to reason with his sister, but all of his words fell upon deaf ears as she tried to kill her brother. “Look around you! The empire is over!”

Metal clashed against metal as Vrek grinded his precious luxite blade against his sister’s steel. The two moved almost in absolute harmony: their movements perfectly complimenting each other as if their battle were a dance and both of them had memorized the steps. Yuerek’s machete flowed through the air like a snake swimming through water, gliding elegantly in the cold night before bouncing off her opponent’s weapon with violent sparks. Her movements and attacks were unpredictable to all but Vrek, who was clearly trained in the same manner of combat. Keith however, who had never properly allowed himself to develop countermeasures to his mate’s techniques, could barely keep up, and quickly found his aggressive tactics failing him as he leaned more heavily upon his underdeveloped defense. 

The two were forced back against the colosseum wall- and with nowhere to run, the pair had nowhere to dodge. The Galra commander faked an attack in one direction to herd the younger Blade closer in her reach, and Keith fell for it- stepping in towards Yuerek’s center line. Her machete sunk into the delicate flesh of Keith’s shoulder, covering her weapon in the distinctive bright scarlet of human blood. 

“Gah-!” A wail erupted from Keith’s throat, more out of surprise than in pain. _It’s not bad_. He hurriedly pushed his thoughts out towards his mate. He’d still managed to block the blow at the last second before it had been able to do any real damage, but the attack had still torn through his uniform and drawn a not-insignificant amount of blood. 

Vrek could see the red of his mate’s blood against the edge of his sister’s weapon. He would stand for this charade no longer. Keith was in danger, and this had to end. Vrek stepped in front of Keith and shielded him with his body. He was angry. He was growling. And he was going to end this. 

When Yuerek took her next step forward, Vrek beat her to the attack. Vrek slammed the palm of his hand against his sister’s windpipe. The Galra commander made a sharp gasp for air before losing her footing and stepping backwards. 

Vrek placed his free hand on the blade of his own machete, pinching the edge between his pointer and middle finger a few inches from the tip to control how deep his next strike would go. Vrek shoved his blade into his sister’s right shoulder, once the fingers on his blade connected with her armor- Vrek knew that the blade had sunk deep enough. He twisted the luxite at a 45-degree angle, tearing through a much needed ligament: Yuerek’s arm went slack and her own machete clattered to the floor. _Nothing medigel can’t mend, but that’ll still be six movements worth of muscle rehabilitation._ He thought to himself. 

But even disarmed, Yuerek was still a threat. If Vrek didn’t act quickly, she would attempt to retaliate. 

Vrek dropped into a low crouch and brought his blade down through Yuerek’s left knee- shattering her kneecap. _Corrective surgery required. Fifteen movements of rehabilitation_. As well as Vrek could put someone back together... he could take them apart. 

Yuerek dropped to the floor and shrieked in pain. She was bleeding and useless, unable to stand and unable to wield her weapon. 

Keith placed a boot against Vrek’s back like a springboard and stepped off of his mate to launch himself forward towards their enemy, bringing his knee against Yuerek’s jaw and scampering off of her to land behind the Galra commander- getting himself away from being trapped against the wall.

Vrek stood up and walked past his sister to stand with Keith. With Yuerek now defenseless and cornered- she was now out of the fight. 

“Finish it!” Yuerek spat purple blood across her brother’s boots. “FINISH IT!”

Vrek had no response. His expression was unreadable as he stared down at his sister. She had tried to kill his mate, yes- but he would not be her executioner. 

“Then I’ll finish this one!” Another Galra shouted, taking his opportunity to thin the field of potential enemies. 

With both Keith and Vrek having been fighting for their lives for the past few doboshes, they had forgotten that they were not the largest threat to these Galra warlords. This was an attempt to consolidate power in whatever remained of the fractured empire, the fewer warlords there were, the easier it would be to rally under a common banner. 

_No_. 

Vrek hoisted his blade up above his head to block the axe that was intended for his sister. He twisted his machete behind the bit of the axe and flung the weapon out of the other Galra’s arms. In an instant, Keith was behind the new threat, bringing his knife up into his back to remove yet another hostile from the field.

“Keith. On me.” Vrek turned his back to his wounded sister, and faced his knife out towards the field of would-be assailants. Keith jumped back to his mate’s side, leaving himself blind to Yuerek but focusing on whatever attack could come next. No matter how much pain the woman had caused the two of them, she was still family. “Yuerek, gather your troops. Someone you can trust.”

Yuerek eyed her brother with weary suspicion. But, seeing as how she had no other choice- she raised her communicator to her face and called for reinforcements. 

The two stood guard over the enemy commander, fending off haphazard attempts to charge at them by quickly dispatching any aggressor with ruthless efficiency. By the time the floor around them had been littered with the bodies of failed assassins- any other combatant would take one look at all those who had tried before them, before deciding it best to leave them be.

The battle itself ended quickly once the rest of the Voltron lions had arrived. Any Galra cruiser that fired upon the Legendary Defender would be immediately incinerated in a volley of laserfire; and, in the face of such overwhelming firepower, all other Galra commanders halted their futile hostilities to allow Voltron’s Galra champion, Prince Lotor, to ascend the steps of destiny. 

When a small group of Galra soldier’s cautiously started to approach the Blades, Vrek let out a growl before his sister said, “These are my men. Let them through.”

The two let the Galra soldiers come to the aid of their commander, and it took a group effort to help get Yuerek back to her feet again.

Lotor had almost reached the top of the stairs. The ceremony was over- no one could or would stop the new Emperor from being crowned at this point. With nothing else to do, Keith turned away from the steps and started walking away. It was time to leave this cursed planet.

When Vrek turned to follow his bond mate, his sister called out to him, getting him to stop mid-stride. 

“You’ve shamed our family name.” Yuerek spat with utter contempt. “You’ve dishonored us all, and one day... I will make you pay with your life.”

Vrek didn’t turn back to face his sister. He didn’t say anything at all. He just followed Keith. There was nothing that he could say or do that would change his sister’s mind. He had broken their family, and he would have to live with that.

Ilun returned with the shuttle she had emancipated from Ranvieg’s control. Her guilt at having left her brethren behind had brought her back. She was humiliated- she didn’t think that she would have been so cowardly to leave her brothers when they had asked for her help. She was lucky that neither Vrek nor Keith were the type to hold grudges: had this mission been carried out by any other in their order- surely word would make it through their ranks that she abandoned her comrades in their time of need, and she would never be trusted by another Blade again.

Keith and Vrek knew that Ilun was ashamed of her actions. They wouldn’t lord it over her- she would find her own form of penance. Besides, neither of the bond mates could pay any heed to the deeds of their comrade- not when Vrek’s actions still lingered between them. The two would need to have a talk.

The flight back to the Marmora base was absolutely silent. 

Keith was too mad to even acknowledge Vrek through their bond.

Vrek couldn’t find any words to appease his mate. 

And Ilun couldn’t bear to look either of her brothers in the eye.

The Kral Zera had taken place. The three were unable to destroy the remnants of the Galra Empire. Ilun had abandoned them. Vrek’s family was in tatters. And both Keith and Vrek would need to stop by the medical bay. All signs that pointed to a cataclysmic failure. 

Yet- despite all of that, Lotor was now on the Galra throne. Perhaps some good would come out of this day. Still, it was hard to determine whether or not today had been a victory. 

Vrek sent a single message via an encrypted channel on a tight-beam to Kolivan’s personal monitor:  
  


  
**[MISSION FAILED]**

\--------------------------------------------------------

**The Players on the Board:**

_***Commander Ulko***_

Tasked with hunting down Blade of Marmora Spies - @agilaodan on Twitter 

_**Commander Valx**_

Disgraced Galra Loyalist - @greenerghosty on Twitter

_***Commander Trugg***_

_****Warlord Ranveig****_

_***Commander Ladnok***_

_***Commander Gnov***_

A very special thanks goes out to both Agi and Green for lending me their Galra OC's to help pad out the members of Galra high command in Kolivan and Antok's discussion. I love the idea of people's OC's popping up across multiple author's stories to help give presence to their existence within this universe. Maybe in the future I'll write more about people's Galra OC's... I love seeing the different perspectives of people actually IN the Empire and what it is they believe that they're fighting for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Artist Credit: @eeniiart on Twitter
> 
> Next up, Chapter 10: Avoidance
> 
> I can't possibly convey how happy it makes me feel to look at Keith and Vrek standing there together in this chapter's illustration. EVERY piece of art that Eenii has done for this fic is my favorite, but THIS piece in particular hits me somewhere I can't quite describe.
> 
> Please, please let me know what you thought of this chapter! Again, I worked incredibly hard on this chapter and I sincerely hope that the effort shows. This was the chapter that I desperately needed to *get right*, so I hope that it was exciting where I wanted it to be exciting and heartbreaking where I wanted it to be heartbreaking. Hopefully I succeeded in giving you the feels!


	10. Avoidance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angered by his mate's actions at the Kral Zera, Keith sets about distancing himself from Vrek.

By the time that Ilun, Vrek, and Keith had arrived back at the Marmora base, word had already stretched throughout the Empire that Lotor had assumed the throne.

This was the dawning of a new age for the Galra empire: a reformation into something different. This should have been a cause for celebration for all of those within the Blade of Marmora, but something felt… wrong. The uneasiness that was deeply seated within the hearts of the Blades was something that many would dismiss as casual disbelief that their dream had been brought to fruition. Others within the order would question the purpose of their sacrifice, and whether or not their dead brothers and sisters would rest easy knowing that the Empire was merely reformed and not dismantled entirely. 

Ilun brought the shuttle into the Blade of Marmora’s main hangar bay. Antok was already waiting for them with his arms characteristically crossed over his chest. 

Keith stepped out of the shuttle first, not waiting for Vrek or Ilun- his boots clanging against the metal as he stomped his way down the ramp to close the distance between them and their superior officer.

Antok unfolded his arms when Keith approached him, but Keith did not stop walking. 

“Kolivan wishes to sp-” 

“No.” Keith didn’t even glance up at the much larger Blade as he pushed his way past him. Not breaking his gait as he ignored his orders and marched straight out of the hangar bay. 

When Ilun and Vrek crossed the hangar to meet Antok, they both stopped and stood at attention. 

Antok looked the two Blades up and down, before glancing back over his shoulder to eye at the door that Keith had just left through. He cleared his throat, not really used to having been so casually rebuffed. “Ah- Kolivan wishes to speak with you.”

Vrek wasn’t even looking at Antok, his eyes locked on the exit that his mate had just walked through- as if Keith might come running back through that door upon realizing that Vrek hadn’t been following him. The door did not open, and Keith did not return. 

Antok let out a heavy sigh. “Ilun, report to Kolivan. Vrek-” Vrek’s ears twitched upon hearing his name, but he did not turn to look at his superior. “- go find Keith.”

“Yes, sir.” Vrek started to walk away, but his arm was caught by Ilun. Before Vrek had the chance to temper his response, he had already let a low growl escape from his throat- as if Ilun was intentionally keeping him from chasing after his mate. 

Ilun instantly let go of Vrek’s arm, expecting Vrek to bolt the instant she released her grip on him. But Vrek did not leave. He clearly looked irritated, but he stayed with Ilun until Antok had taken his leave and let them be. 

Ilun was fighting to look Vrek in the eye. It was hard. It felt like Vrek’s golden gaze was piercing through her heart. She had seen the medic many times before, and he had always carried with him a warmth and approachability that made him good at his job. The few times that she had seen him direct his aggression towards someone -whether it had been defending his omega or helping him through a rut- Ilun had never been the focus of his ire. Now that Ilun was faced with the sheer coldness of Vrek’s penetrating stare, she could see what others found so scary about him.

As she struggled to form the words of her apology, Vrek seemed to grow more and more agitated, shifting his weight from one leg to another. He was already ready for this conversation to be over so that he could rush to Keith’s side. Ilun decided that -even if she couldn’t find the _right_ words- that she would have to try right now. “Vrek... are we… okay?”

“Okay with what...?” Vrek cocked his head to the side, occasionally letting his gaze drift back to the exit door. 

“Well I... I left you both. You are my brothers-in-arms and I just... I left you.”

Vrek stopped Ilun before she could continue. “Ilun. As far as I am concerned, you helped us in every way you could. No one outside of the three of us need ever know that you left us behind. I do not wish for any of our comrades to lose faith in your loyalty. What we asked of you was… unfair. We shouldn’t have expected you to stay with us to risk your life needlessly. If you are searching for my forgiveness, you have it.”

Ilun was taken aback. “Th...thank you, Vrek. I... that means a lot to me. Do you think that Keith-?”

Vrek closed his eyes. Inhaling through his nose before letting out a sigh. If he reached out to feel his mate, he would almost recoil. His mate’s anger and sadness welled up within him and Vrek almost reflexively pulled back as if he had set his hand on a hot stove. He couldn’t detect any nuance to Keith’s feelings, least of all with regards to Ilun.

“I cannot speak for my mate at the moment.” Ilun’s face fell slightly, as if Vrek’s forgiveness would not matter without Keith’s. “However, I can’t imagine Keith to hold any ill will against you. To be quite honest, I’m sure you’re not even on his mind right now. But if you’re still concerned, just speak with him. Keith will let you know exactly where you stand with him. Now, is there anything else?”

Vrek’s eyes searched Ilun’s expression, and once Ilun shook her head to signal that there was nothing further she wished to discuss, Vrek wasted no time in leaving the hangar. He needed to find Keith. 

\---

Keith barged into the medical ward. The gash in his shoulder was maybe only half an inch deep, but it stretched across a solid 6-inches, passing concerningly close to his neck. Stitches would have probably been the best recourse of action, but Keith had nothing resembling the patience that would require such careful suturing. For now, medigel would suffice.

Segrani was the medic currently manning the medical ward. Segrani was an older Blade, placing him somewhere between Vrek and Kolivan in age- he was a Galra hybrid of sorts that did not seem to have much distinctive differences from a Galra pureblood such as Vrek, other than the fact that he was exceptionally fluffy.

“Oh! Hello Keith. I had heard you would be returning from a mission-” The rest of the words died in Segrani’s mouth as Keith failed to even acknowledge his presence. Keith and Segrani hadn’t had any lengthy conversations with one another, but the two had crossed paths before when Keith had been spending his down time in the Medical ward waiting for Vrek to finish with his own rotation. Their interactions had always been pleasant... pleasant enough for Segrani to recognize that now was not a time for casual banter.

Segrani might as well have not even existed when Keith came stomping into the room. Keith had spent enough idle time in the medical ward to know where Vrek had stored every relevant item that Keith would require. 

Rummaging through some storage shelves, Keith pulled out a few pouches of medigel and dropped them on a table. Reaching up behind himself, Keith used a hand to pull down on the zipper of his suit in order to pull his uniform off of his injured shoulder. Keith grunted with frustration as he peeled the skin-tight fabric up and around his injury, careful not to drag the suit along the exposed wound. 

Vrek entered the Medical Ward at that point, his suit was still covered in ash, soot, and the distinctive purple blood of _other_ Galra. 

“Oh, hey Vrek- glad to see that you’re ba-” Segrani stopped talking once he realized that Vrek was also ignoring his presence. Vrek’s eyes were locked on Keith as he crossed the room to close the distance between himself and his mate. 

Keith turned his head and shot his mate a deadly glare over his injured shoulder, and Vrek had to make a conscious effort to stop in his tracks- fighting his instincts to tend to his mate’s wound. 

Segrani -clearly a third wheel here- was not privy to the events that had occurred between the two mates at the Kral Zera, but the quarrel that the two were having was as clear as day. Rather than stay and intrude upon the privacy of the two bond mates, the lower Galra medic decided that it might be best to find something else to preoccupy himself for the next few doboshes. “Yeah... so... in case anyone cares... I’m going to go grab some food. I’ll be back in ten doboshes… or… longer... if you need.”

Vrek waited until his colleague had taken his leave so that the two would not be airing out their proverbial dirty laundry in front of others. “Keith, I know that you’re upset with me.”

For the first time, Keith cursed his bond with Vrek.

So many people throughout his life had told him that they had known how he had felt. When his father died- people told him that they _knew_ what he was feeling. When Shiro left, people had told him that they _knew_ he was lonely. The counselors at school and at the Garrison always _knew_ how he felt when he was lashing out. Keith never wanted to give anyone the satisfaction of knowing that they were right- even if they weren’t wrong. Instinctually, Keith wanted to shout back at his mate, and tell Vrek that- like so many others in his life, that he didn’t _know_ what Keith was feeling right now. 

But Vrek was in the singular circumstance in Keith’s life to know exactly what he was feeling, and Keith knew that Vrek would be intimately familiar with the emotions that were simmering beneath Keith’s angry exterior. 

Vrek took a cautious step towards his mate, moving to help Keith dress his wound. “At least let me help you clean that…”

Keith met Vrek’s advance with a snarl and bared teeth, a Galra expression that Keith had obtained from his mate in particular. _No_. 

Vrek raised his hands, taking another step backwards. Being both a medic _and_ Keith’s alpha, he had to fight every fiber in his body screaming at him to help the small human. But Vrek was aware of who Keith was. He knew that his mate would (much to his frustration) prefer bearing physical injury to having his emotional distress addressed. It wasn’t healthy, but Vrek understood the volatility that he was trampling upon. Keith wanted space, and he would respect his mate’s wishes. 

“Keith... you know what I did, I did to save your life.” Vrek sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers- partially annoyed at the excess of medigel that Keith was haphazardly slathering on to his cut.

Keith slipped his shoulder back into his Blade’s uniform, not bothering with the zipper. He turned, giving his mate a ferocious stare that communicated more than what he could’ve formed with words. Keith made for the exit, grabbing a heap of bandages and crumpling them in his grip on his way out the door.

“Keith you have to talk to me...” Vrek reached out for his mate, ready to follow him out the door. 

“No.” Keith spun on his heels, turning to face his mate and pointing a finger at the young Galra medic. “No. You don’t get to tell me what I _have to_ do. And you can’t tell me what I _can’t_ do. Just… just give me space, Vrek.”

With that, Keith turned and started walking down the hall. 

Vrek sighed. He knew that Keith would come around... eventually... After all, they were bond mates: they would face the Galaxy together, meaning that they could surely face one another. If Keith needed space, Vrek would do his best to give Keith the space that he needed. Besides, Vrek couldn’t leave the medical ward unattended- not with Segrani having left specifically because of the two mates’ quarrel. 

Stripping out of his Blade's uniform, Vrek gave himself a brief look over, making note of some of the bruising and fractures that he suffered from the concussive force of the explosion he had been too close to. He was banged up, but it was nothing that he couldn’t handle. 

By the time Vrek had applied some ointments to his bruises and redressed, Segrani had returned. Segrani didn’t ask for any of the details of the source of the bond mates’ hostility towards one another, and Vrek didn’t supply anything. Vrek simply apologized for having to kick Segrani out of his own med bay, and bowed out the door. 

Vrek stopped by the commissary and grabbed a plate of food goo for both himself and his mate. When Vrek had returned to their nest, he realized that it was in the exact same condition it had been in from when the two had left for the mission. Keith was nowhere to be seen. 

Vrek set the plate of protein mush down on the table, thinking that, _perhaps he just needed a walk around the base to even out his temperament_. Regardless, Vrek would wait for his mate to return. It wouldn’t be much longer... he was sure of that. 

He waited. 

And waited. 

And waited still. 

It took a few Vargas to pass with Vrek pitifully staring at the entry door to their room before he realized that his mate might’ve needed more space than he could have initially anticipated. 

\---

After Keith had stormed out of medical, his feet carried him through the base. He had thought about returning to their nest and simply passing out before Vrek would return. But Keith didn’t think that that would be the most effective manner of avoiding his problems; if Vrek were to hold him or scent him, any lingering resentment Keith had towards the Galra pureblood would evaporate. Keith wanted to stay mad, at least until he could verbalize why he was mad. 

So instead- he wandered.

Keith wandered for quite some time until he found himself at the only other familiar room in the base. 

He brought his fist up to the door, hesitating for a brief second before he was able to rap his knuckles across the hard plastic. _Was everything different between them now? Would things be awkward after the night they had shared in the nest?_

Heavy footsteps carried themselves over to the door, and Keith could already hear the irritated tone of the Aardru hybrid that he had come to know as his best friend. 

“How many times do I have to tell you... I have a door chime. Use it.” Keith could hear Regris complaining before he had gotten to the door. “But _nooOoOooOo_. You insist on banging against the door with your fist like some kind of savag-“

When the door slid open, Keith was met with Regris, and Regris’ annoyance immediately dissolved into pity as his eyes scanned his friend. Keith was a mess. Medigel carelessly slathered across his red shoulder, bandages held tightly in his hand, and the poor child was covered in dirt. 

“Hey Regris... sorry to barge in on you like this... but I…”

Before Keith could even finish the sentence, Regris had gripped the front of Keith’s uniform and yanked the small human out of the hallway and into his room. “Keith! What happened? You look like... well... not good.”

Pushing back an annoying strand of black hair that was matted to Keith’s dirty forehead, Keith realized he didn’t even know where to begin. “I... I’m having a fight… with Vrek.” Keith turned his eyes away from Regris. “Can I… stay here? For a bit?”

Regris pulled Keith in for a hug. He didn’t scent Keith -not only was Regris not an alpha, but despite the closeness of the two, he was not his _bond mate_ \- and scenting another’s bond mate would be leagues past improper, but the hug itself was warm and reassuring and Keith melted into it all the same. 

“Keith. You can stay here as long as you like, but... you need to talk this out with your bond mate.”

Keith knew that. He knew that deep within his heart. But talking with Vrek would require some sort of confrontation, and Keith was terrible with all sorts of confrontations that didn’t directly require a sword. 

“I know. I just… I can’t do it now.” Keith sighed. He didn’t realize that he had been holding his breath, as if he had been waiting for Regris to cast him out of his room again and tell him that he shouldn’t overstep his bounds and assume on their relationship. 

Regris pulled back from Keith, his own uniform now having some smeared blood and medigel across his chest. “I know that I’m no medic, but… can I at least help you dress this?” Regris tilted his scaly head in the direction of Keith’s wound.

Keith nodded slowly, and let Regris pull the top half of his uniform off of his torso. Taking the wraps of bandages out of Keith’s clenched hand, Regris tore some strips apart and set the rest off to the side. 

The larger amphibian was very careful with Keith, as if he had been made out of porcelain. 

“Regris, with how hard you’ve fucked me... you should know that I won’t break”. Keith hated being treated like he was fragile. He wasn’t fragile. He was a Paladin. He was a Blade. And surely something like this wouldn’t hurt him. 

Regris wrapped the bandages around Keith’s chest for stability, and then looped them up and around over his cut shoulder until he couldn’t see the redness of Keith’s human blood seep through the fabric. He gave the bandages a firm tug, ensuring that they were tightly secured to Keith’s body, making Keith hiss for a brief second before he was able to successfully choke back his pain. 

Keith stayed partially undressed, with his uniform still covering his modesty but bunched up around his waist and exposing his whole chest. It’s not like Keith had much of a choice: all of his clothes were in his room with Vrek, and he wouldn’t be returning there any time soon.

“Did you… want to talk about what happened between you two?” Regris broached the subject with the utmost caution, as if Keith were a cornered animal that might scamper away from the hand that Regris was offering. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to…”

“No. No. I can talk about it.” Keith sighed. If he wasn’t able to talk to Regris about it, he wouldn’t be able to confront his mate about it. 

Keith sat on the floor of Regris’ room, and Regris sat across from his human friend while he started to explain the mission that he had been on. Keith had never seen Regris so attentive before: his comrade didn’t crack a joke, his tail didn’t start to fidget, and he didn’t reach for his tablet to idly scroll through messages during his story- Regris just sat there with his eyes focused on Keith. 

“And then... he just grabbed me and started pulling me away, Regris. He didn’t even care about what could’ve happened to Shiro.” The memory of what had happened flashed through Keith’s mind. The typically reassuring feeling of his mate’s arms around his waist now felt like shackles as it dragged him away from the next detonator. 

Regris considered Keith’s words, trying his best to phrase his response in his head. “Keith, _of_ _course_ Vrek didn’t care what happened to Shiro. _You_ were in danger.”

“But I begged him to put me down. If he had helped me, maybe we could’ve disarmed a few more...”

“Do you think that would have made that much more of a difference?”

“I don’t know, Regris. But he didn’t even want to try. He didn’t even listen to me when I begged him to keep helping me.” Keith clenched his fists. He still felt mad, but he knew how this all must have sounded to Regris. “It’s like… what I wanted didn’t even matter to him.” 

“Vrek is your alpha, Keith. I... I don’t think you know what that _really_ , _truly_ means, yet.”

“Then tell me, if I don’t understand.”

“Well…” Regris wrapped his tail around his hands, fiddling with the tip of his tail and flicking it back and forth through his fingertips as some kind of nervous tick. Regris had to think of the most extreme case scenario for Keith to understand the lengths of how far bond mates would go for one another. It was easy to boil down Vrek’s commitment to Keith by saying that he would fight Zarkon personally- but the meaning of such a gesture was more than likely lost on Keith: someone who _had_ fought Zarkon before.

“Keith... you care about your friends. I know that. I know that better than most. You barely even _knew me_ when you came back and saved my tail... so I can’t even _imagine_ how hard you would’ve fought to save the black paladin.” Regris started. 

Keith blushed a bit. For as stoic and emotionally stunted as he was, Keith had an undying loyalty to his friends- and he wore that loyalty upon his sleeve for all to see. Regris knew that this is how he could validate his point. 

Regris took a deep breath before continuing, he knew that this was more than an extreme enough example, but it would get his point across. “Imagine this: if you were in danger. And somehow... if the _only_ way for Vrek to save you was for him to _kill_ every other Blade on this base… he would do it. He would tear apart every member of the Blade of Marmora and… we wouldn’t be able to stop him.”

Keith tried to entertain that thought. Sweet, emotional, hopelessly romantic and still incredibly awkward Vrek- having his knife at the throats of… Kolivan, Antok, Ulaz, Danit, and every single other Blade in the base down to Regris. He shook the thought out of his head. He couldn’t picture it. He couldn’t picture the ruthlessness it would take to have to turn on your friends like that- Keith doubted that, if it ever came to that, if what remained of Vrek would even still _be_ Vrek. 

“Point… taken.” Keith sighed. He knew that somewhere that Regris’ reasons were sound, but at the same time- he couldn’t just logic his anger away. 

“So you can see...” Regris began. “What he did at the Kral Zera was what any alpha would do for their omega. Especially an alpha like Vrek.”

Keith wanted to disagree, but he couldn’t. In the scheme of things, what Vrek had done wouldn’t be approaching the realm of being unforgivable- but Keith was still mad about it. 

It was getting late. 

“Are you hungry at all?” Regris asked Keith.

“No.” That was a lie. But Keith could lie. Regris wasn’t his bond mate, and he wouldn’t know any different. “I’m just… I’m tired.”

“Then why don’t you take a shower here. Trust me, it’ll make you feel better. In the meantime, I’ll go run an errand and we can go to sleep.” Regris gave Keith a smile- a smile very unlike the devious, toothy grin that was usually creeping its way across his face. 

Regris left, and once he had, Keith felt comfortable enough to undress and step out of his suit and into the shower. 

The shower in Regris’ room was distinctly different from every other shower on base. Regris was half Aardru: an amphibious species that was meant to spend most of their lives submerged in water. So water, to Regris, wasn’t necessarily an amenity as it was a necessity- and the Blades understood this biological need and had allotted Regris with the only fresh-water shower on the base. Keith noticed a small gauge next to the showerhead, indicating a ‘full’ gauge readout. Water on the asteroid was incredibly scarce; the Blades had to make every effort in conserving their water usage, since any water would have to be shipped in from off base. Keith doubted that Regris even allowed himself the privilege of indulging in his shower every dobosh, knowing how limited their reserves were; because of that, Keith felt honored that his friend would let him partake in such a precious act. 

Keith turned on the hot water, and let the warm heat wash away his worries. 

He wasn’t in the shower for long, but when he got out of the shower with a small towel wrapped around his hips, he found that Regris had already returned, and was presenting Keith with a small set of clothes.

“I headed down to requisitions to get some clothes for you to wear. Just so that you can be comfortable out of your uniform.” Regris had already stripped down to his underwear, and left Keith’s clothes in front of him.

Regris helped change Keith’s bandages before climbing into his bunk. Keith pulled on the clothes -everything was civilian wear and still a bit too loose- but Keith was thankful for that since it wouldn’t aggravate his cut.

Keith climbed into bed next to Regris, and the two laid in the bunk back-to-back. It felt odd: Regris had seen Keith naked before, hell- Regris had _come_ inside of Keith before- but the pretenses surrounding that night were entirely different. Keith felt like his friend was intentionally distancing himself from him, and Keith couldn’t blame him. The night that Keith had spent with both Regris and Vrek had been different: for one- Vrek was also there. Being alone in a bed with Regris somehow felt like a betrayal to Keith, and Keith felt a tad guilty about it. 

Tonight, Keith had come to his friend during his time of need. Keith was vulnerable, an exposed nerve of emotional turmoil, and even though Regris had already seen Keith without his clothes on, this was the first time Keith felt truly naked in front of his friend. Everything about the situation held the unspoken air of intimacy.

“Regris?” Keith’s voice squeaked out of him. He might feel guilty about this later, but this level of dispassionateness was hurting him. He needed someone to be here for him, and having gotten so accustomed to the warming presence of his mate’s arms wrapped around him, Keith realized that he wouldn’t be able to sleep peacefully without some type of substitute. 

“Hmmm?” Regris’ response came out as a sleepy grumble.

“Can you… hold me?”

There was a pause. 

“Are you sure, Keith?” Regris turned to face the small human, still keeping himself out of touching distance as if that line had not already been crossed once before.

“Yeah... I just… I don’t want to feel alone.” Keith brought his knees up to his chest, and was curled up like a small puppy in Regris’ bunk. 

Regris slid one of his arms under Keith’s neck, and draped another around his small human waist. With all the strength that one might expect from someone of Regris’ size, the Aardru pulled Keith back up against him and brought the human in for a snuggle. 

Keith was almost suffocating in affection, but he arched into Regris’ touch all the same. He felt better already. 

Regris’ scales were softer to the touch than they had appeared to be, but it was still nowhere near as soft as the plush fur of his mate. Regris’ internal body temperature was also somewhere lower than Keith’s and his presence felt like a protective shade as opposed to the furnace that was his Galra bond mate. The presence was different, but the reassurance of limbs casually draped over him and the solid frame against his back gave him the peace of mind he would need to drift off to sleep. 

“Goodnight, Regris.”

“Goodnight, Keith.” Regris placed a small kiss against the back of Keith’s neck, and Keith shuddered against it. 

\---

Keith was reminded about the time before he had bonded with Vrek. In those painful few days between Keith’s heat and Vrek’s rut, Keith had been convinced that Vrek had been avoiding him. Back then, Keith had wondered how, on such a small base, one could make themselves that unavailable. 

Turns out, it wasn’t that hard. 

Regris fetched them both breakfast, the two had munched on some protein bars for lunch, and had spent the entirety of the day confined to Regris’ room. 

Keith had managed to avoid Vrek for nearly the entire day, and he could feel that it was starting to make Vrek feel debilitatingly uneasy. 

Dark storm clouds of worry would drift across Keith’s mind. Vrek was constantly attempting to reach through their bond and make sure that his mate was alright, and Keith kept dismissing the feelings of worry. 

Keith was sitting with Regris in his room when Regris’ tablet chimed with an alert. 

**[REGRIS. URGENT. IS KEITH WITH YOU? IS KEITH ALRIGHT?]**

Regris sighed, handing his tablet over for Keith to inspect the message. “Keith... you should try to talk to him. The poor guy is going to have a panic attack.”

He knew that Regris was right, and Keith took Regris’ tablet out of his hands to type a quick response to his mate. 

**[IT’S KEITH. I’M FINE. BE BACK TONIGHT TO TALK]**

Keith sent the message, and before he could see that the message had been read and acknowledged, he felt a tightness coiling in his gut that told him that his response hadn’t eased his mate’s troubles. Keith quickly typed out a second message to send to his mate. 

**[I STILL LOVE YOU, VREK]**

The tightness inside of him immediately began to relax, and no more than three ticks later did he get a response from Vrek. 

**[I LOVE YOU TOO, KEITH. I MISS YOU]**

“You two are gross.” Regris chuckled teasingly when Keith had handed him his tablet back. 

\---

When Keith had finally worked up the courage to leave Regris’ room, he hugged the massive Blade and gave him a small kiss on the cheek. Regris had been more than kind to him, and even though he wasn’t an alpha, he had taken care of Keith. Regris was a better quality of friend than Keith thought he deserved. 

Keith began walking through the corridors of the base, feeling a little odd now that he was dressed back in his torn and bloody Blades uniform. 

When Keith turned down a main corridor, he was confronted with the looming, hulking body of his leader, Kolivan. Kolivan stared down the small Blade, raising up a brow as he gave Keith the once over. _Looks like there’s no avoiding it now._

“Keith... I’m glad to see that you’re well. The report I was given had mentioned that you had been wounded.” Kolivan had his hands resting behind his back, and he was as stoic as he had ever been. “May I speak with you?”

Keith ran a hand up and down the back of his neck. “Does it have to be now? I kind of… already have someone I need to speak with…”

“I assure you that it will take but a moment.” Kolivan opened up the nearest room next to them, an empty training room, and stepped inside- inviting Keith to do the same. 

With a heavy and not-at-all over-exaggerated sigh, Keith stepped into the room with Kolivan- convinced that his leader was about to deliver yet another lecture about how his impulsiveness had cost them the mission. 

“Listen, Kolivan... I’m sorry that the mission didn’t go as planned.” Keith crossed his arms over his chest. “I know that this could’ve been a big success for us... but with Shiro there I just had to-"

Kolivan raised a hand, and Keith instantly stopped speaking. 

“Keith, I heard what had happened during the mission. I know that you must be feeling… a particular way about how things unfolded, and I just wanted to help put you at ease.” Kolivan took a deep breath, holding it in for a second as if it were the last deep breath that the man would ever take. “Keith, I’m sorry.”

Keith blinked in surprise at the much larger man. “You’re what?”

“I’m sorry. I’ve reprimanded you and lectured you about the necessity to follow my orders to the letter... but… the reason that I selected you for the Kral Zera operation was precisely because you do not follow my orders.”

“I’m… I’m lost here”. Keith’s mouth still hung open in surprise. He knew that this admission had to be rather difficult for Kolivan, and he didn’t intend to draw out his leader’s suffering any longer than he had to- but he was genuinely lost. 

“Keith. Time and time again, you’ve proven yourself to be a competent leader. You make decisions in the moment that benefit our cause as a whole, even at the risk of your own life. Your mission to the moon facility? It was the right call. I selected you for the Kral Zera because I knew that, with so many unknown factors- that you would be the only one who would be able to make the correct decisions on what to do. I trusted you with that.”

“Oh... thank you.”

“That being said, it is clear to me that your judgement is askew when it involves the Paladins of Voltron, particularly the Black Paladin. I sent Vrek with you specifically because I knew that he would pull you out of the fires if you got in over your head, however, I was not made aware of Voltron’s intentions to intercede with the ceremony, and such a complication was not accounted for. Because of everything that has happened, I feel primarily responsible for the… difficulties… you are now having with your bond mate. And I wanted to apologize.” Kolivan bowed his head in Keith’s direction, a small gesture of lowering himself to the former Red Paladin.

“Kolivan... thanks but… it was Vrek that made the choice to...” Keith’s sentence was cut short.

“No, Keith. I know you are still a fledgling in our culture, but understand that Vrek is your Alpha. He didn’t have a choice in his actions.” Kolivan took a deep breath, glancing towards the door to the room that they were in as if he were already ready to make a hasty escape. “That is all.”

With that, Kolivan nodded to Keith, and took his leave. And Keith was left to once again re-evaluate everything he had to say to Vrek. 

\---

When Keith finally returned to their room, Vrek immediately bounced up from the nest and gathered Keith in his arms to scent him. 

“I’m sorry, Keith. Please don’t be mad at me anymore. I’ll do whatever you ask of me, just please don’t be mad at me.” Vrek was already on the verge of tears, and Keith could see the darkness around his eyes that told him that he had been crying for quite some time already. 

Keith glanced around the room, and was immediately disheartened to see eight untouched plates of food littered around their nest. Vrek had been getting them both every meal that they had missed together, and he had not touched a sporkful of it himself without his omega present. Vrek was more of a mess than Keith had anticipated him being, and he was immediately swept up in a wave of deep guilt. He had been mad at Vrek, but he didn’t want his mate to suffer like this.

“Vrek... Vrek... it’s okay. It’s okay.” Keith pulled Vrek’s face away from scenting his neck for a moment so that the two could share a kiss together. Their kiss was desperate and needy, with Vrek pouring every ounce of himself into that kiss as if he would never kiss Keith again. “Vrek... I’m... I’m not mad at you. And before I say anything else, I need you to know that I love you, and that I’ll always love you. Okay?”

Vrek used his sleeve to wipe the forming tears away from his eyes before resting his forehead against his mate’s. “Okay.”

“I just... I was upset because...” Keith grasped for the words. He hated having to try to navigate his feelings. He would rather be lost in the vacuum of space than have to share how he felt but, for his mate- he would try his best. “I was upset because... I had wanted to do something. I made the choice to save Shiro. And you stopped me from doing that.”

“Keith... I’m so sorry but... if I had to... I would do it all over again...” Before Vrek could try to explain himself to his mate, Keith shut him up with another kiss. 

“Vrek, I understand. I know that you did what you had to do. And… I don’t blame you for that. You’re my alpha, and you protect me.”

Keith’s words were echoed in his mind by Vrek’s thoughts. _I am your alpha. I protect you._

To Vrek, his actions were more than just protecting the well-being of his mate- for he also knew that he was selfishly attempting to protect himself. A Universe without Keith was not a Universe worth living in, and if Keith had been taken from him- Vrek would’ve jumped on his own blade to avoid the hollowness of a life without his love. 

“I don’t blame you for what you did, but…” Keith took a deep breath before he continued. “When you told me to go, when you told me that we might die… you were forcing me to _choose_. I had to make a choice between you, and Shiro.”

Vrek could feel the pain in his chest starting to boil up again, he knew the way his mate felt about Shiro -and even though he knew that his mate loved him- that there would always be a part of Keith that would love Shiro. Vrek tried not to feel selfish, his brain knew that he had to accept his mate and any love he had for anyone else for the sake of Keith’s own happiness- but at the same time, his heart was wrought with jealousy at the idea that Keith would never completely be his. 

Vrek could bury those feelings for now. He would do anything his mate asked of him, as long as it kept Keith happy. 

“And Vrek... I love you. I love you so much. _You_ are my _bond mate_ , not Shiro. But just…” Keith chewed on his lip. He took Vrek’s head in his hands so that the two could look each other in the eyes. 

“...Just don’t make me _choose_.”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up, Chapter 11: Heartache
> 
> *COUGH-FORESHADOWING-COUGH*
> 
> It's a lot of fun to write Keith and Vrek when they're together, because aren't they just so damn cute together? That being said... writing Keith and Vrek APART from one another is also an interesting challenge because you can see that Vrek's entire existence has now solely been redefined as being Keith's alpha. The attachment that Vrek has to Keith is... admirable, yes... but also clearly unhealthy. I hope that despite how romantic such strong separation anxiety seems, that you clearly see that this relationship has the potential to be fairly toxic... through no fault of their own. 
> 
> As always, drop down in the comments below and let me know what you thought of this chapter! I always love seeing what you guys think and speculate about. Thank you all so much for sticking with this story! 
> 
> We're coming up on the endgame, here... I hope you are all prepared for the final two chapters. 
> 
> *Eyes next chapter with weary suspicion*


	11. Heartache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vrek returns from a mission to find that Kolivan has already deployed Keith elsewhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VERY SPECIAL GUEST ARTIST: @greenerghosty on Twitter/ tumblr/ and Instagram

Vrek and Danit had spent the last movement on a mission to procure the Blade of Marmora a variety of medical supplies. Their mission had taken them to the fringes of Galra occupied territory, where the two would purchase excess supplies from Imperial Outposts that were less stringent with their inventory and manned by soldiers more inclined to line their pockets with GAC. Under the guise of entrepreneurship, the two medics would pose as smugglers aiming to profit off of the resale of Imperial goods… not necessarily the most honorable cover story, but it was both believable and better than being suspected as rebels. 

As much as Vrek would’ve preferred to have Keith at his side, the presence of someone so distinctly not-Galran would have placed them under unwanted scrutiny, and when making contact with disreputable Galra soldiers, discretion was indeed the utmost priority. 

The mission had gone off without a hitch, but Vrek found himself growing increasingly agitated the longer he was away from Keith. He missed his mate. While Vrek was still able to operate effectively as a Blade -not once forgetting their cover story and letting their lies roll off of his tongue like honey off of a spoon- being away from Keith for so long made his skin crawl and forced his mind to wander.

_What’s Keith doing right now? Has he eaten breakfast yet? I hope he’s not training too hard while I’m gone… he could sprain something from overexertion._

All these thoughts constantly drifted into Vrek’s mind, regardless of how hard he tried to remain focused on whatever task was at hand. To say that Vrek had been distracted would be the understatement of the millennia, and surely, Antok would have smacked him in the back of the head if he’d know how easily Vrek’s focus eluded him. 

The entire flight back to the Marmora Base had Vrek positively giddy. This movement had been too long: time had passed as if it had been intentionally slowed down, and each passing dobosh prolonged the aching pain in his heart as if he were being dragged across broken glass. The moment that Vrek and Danit were able to lay eyes back on their home, Vrek had started tapping his foot incessantly against the floor of their little transport shuttle. 

With a heavy sigh, Danit offered to his cohort, “Look, I’ll unload all the supplies by myself if you take my next shift reorganizing all of this once it’s-"

“Deal.” Vrek spat out before Danit had even finished his proposition. He didn’t care. Right now, Vrek needed to see Keith. Danit could have asked him to hand-feed him dinner for the next phoeb and Vrek would’ve wholeheartedly agreed to it without a moment’s hesitation. 

Before the landing gear of the ship had even hit the deck of the hangar bay, Vrek had jumped out of the small transport and had bolted for the nearest doorway. The excitement of being back home started to swell up in Vrek’s chest as each step carried him closer to his nest, drawing him to his mate like magnetism. He was going to grab Keith, drag him down into their nest, and scent him for the next five vargas _at least_ \- and nothing that Keith would do or say could stop him. Butterflies were dancing behind Vrek’s sternum as he approached the door to their room. Vrek opened the door to their shared quarters and found-

-nothing. Keith wasn’t there. 

Vrek turned on his heels and headed back down the hallway. 

Cafeteria? No.

Training room? No.

Main hall? No.

Observation deck? No. 

One by one, those giddy butterflies started to die in his chest and settle into a heavy grave somewhere in his stomach. There were only so many places that Keith could be on this base. 

_Keith?_ Vrek reached out through their bond. They were mated. They were connected. They shared each other in both mind and soul.

There was no answer. 

Vrek could still feel Keith in the back of his mind. His familiar presence was there and it was as comforting as the weight of the Luxite blade strapped across his back. But something was wrong. Vrek’s connection to Keith felt… distant… muddled. 

Having a bond mate was still just as mystical as it was scientific. There was no clear explanation for how the bonding process works on a physiological level, only that it does- and that such connections were different for every pair. Not being an exact science, Vrek could not even begin to theorize why their bond felt different now. How far apart could they be and still feel each other's thoughts? Did distance factor into their bond at all? These were questions that, while posed, were never answered. No bonded pair would ever agree to test the limits of their bond. 

Vrek found himself pacing the hallways of the base, lost in a swell of emotion as he kept trying to push out towards Keith through their bond. Vrek brought a hand up to the scent gland that was nestled between his neck and his shoulder, and slid his clawed hand under the hem of his neckline to run his fingers across the scar that Keith had left on him. Even through his soft, plush fur, Vrek could feel the scar tissue -teeth marks slightly raised against the rest of the skin- from where Keith had chosen to anchor his soul to his own.

Vrek kept rubbing at his bond mark, making sure it was there, making sure that these past few phoebs he’d been mated to Keith hadn’t been some wishful fantasy that he’d conjured up in his imagination. _No. It had happened. Every second of happiness that we have stolen for each other has happened._ Vrek’s own thoughts quelled his anxiety, and he even allowed himself a small smile as he pulled his hand away from his shoulder to stare at the bond bracelet that was tied around his wrist. 

Eventually, Vrek’s persistent pacing of the Marmora base put him in the direct path of the two most senior Blades: Kolivan and Antok. Both Kolivan and Antok were walking down the hall and engrossed in conversation; as officers, proper procedure and common courtesy would call for Vrek to salute and stand aside so that the two Blades could pass him unimpeded. Instead, Vrek stood at attention in the middle of the hallway and forced his superior officers to stop for him.

“Vrek, is there something that we can help you with?” It was Antok that addressed him, with Kolivan at his side and glaring at the medic. Kolivan’s stare was unreadable. Was that agitation? Frustration? Sympathy? It was impossible to tell. 

“Sir, have you seen Keith?” Vrek’s response was given to Antok, but it was clearly meant for their Leader. Vrek knew that Kolivan would know the assignments and whereabouts of every Blade both on and off of the base, and while Vrek had no right to demand an answer from Kolivan, Keith was his mate and Vrek _deserved_ to know where he was. He was steadfast as he held eye-contact with Kolivan, neither Blade blinked, and the moment that passed between them stilled the air with the pretenses of an alpha challenging another alpha. Vrek was punching above his weight-class, but some battles were worth fighting and some questions needed answering. 

Kolivan’s empathy caused him to break first. “I have sent Keith on a mission to extract one of our undercover operatives. To the base of the former Warlord Ranveig. He left a quintant ago. He should be returning after another.”

There was a beat. 

“Did it have to be Keith?” 

“Must I _remind_ you that I need not explain my decisions to you, Vrek?” Kolivan rose his unscarred brow at him. It was not normal for any of their operatives (least of all the demure Vrek) to question the decisions that their leader made. But at one point in time, both Kolivan and Antok had also been bond-sick and suffering from separation anxiety, so they allowed this minor transgression to pass. 

Kolivan continued, “The circumstances surrounding our operative are quite unique, and I felt that it was best that Keith handle this extraction personally. Rest assured, I know that this particular operative would lay down her life for Keith if need be. She will defend him as vehemently as you would.” Kolivan dipped his head towards Vrek, and started to walk past him, signaling that their conversation had ended.

Vrek decided that their conversation was most certainly _not_ over, and moved to block Kolivan’s path before he could make it past him. “But what if _you’re wrong?”_ The question came out of Vrek as a low growl, and the provocation was something that no one was prepared for. 

Kolivan stopped in his tracks and stared down at the insubordinate Blade with the intensity that accompanied his face being twisted into its permanent scowl, “Trust me. _I know.”_ The situation needed to de-escalate before Vrek actually ended up challenging Kolivan. They were done speaking, and Kolivan pushed past Vrek with ease. 

Antok stared Vrek down for a moment longer. The gaze that they held was meant to remind Vrek of his place: not only as a Blade, but as an alpha within the Galra society. In those categories, both Kolivan and Antok were leagues beyond Vrek, and Vrek should be keen on remembering that. 

_A single quintant_. Vrek would have to survive without Keith for a single quintant. He could do that. 

Vrek retired to their nest for the evening, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not bring himself to fall asleep. Peace escaped him, as his thoughts were constantly plagued with visions of his mate in danger and needing assistance that he could not give. He tossed and turned in their nest, trying to convince himself that if he were only able to _sleep-_ it would make the time pass quicker so that he could be with his mate once again. A single quintant. That was all he needed. 

After three vargas of restlessly throwing himself around their bedding in a vain attempt to get comfortable, Vrek resigned himself to not getting any sleep. He dressed himself in his uniform, tucked his tablet under his arm, and headed back out, stopping by the cafeteria first to grab a few protein bars and some vitamin drink pouches to substitute any actual meals he would skip for the day. 

Before long, Vrek found himself in the Blade’s main hangar bay. Vrek settled himself in a secluded area, devoid of any foot traffic or ships, and sat down. He rest his back against the wall of the vast hangar, and set up his tablet to monitor the base’s internal camera feed of the other hangars. If Keith were to return to the base, he would be the first to know. And so, Vrek waited, idly tracing one of his fingers in a circular motion over the bond mark on his shoulder. 

Every few vargas, Vrek would shove a protein bar into his mouth to stave off his hunger. He didn’t want to leave his position for even the briefest of moments that it would take to trek back to the cafeteria. Vrek waited in that hangar for an entire twenty varga cycle, doing nothing but staring out into the blackness of space with the hopes that at any second, he would be able to catch the smallest glimpse of his mate returning to him. But still, there was no Keith. 

After a full quintant of doing nothing but waiting, Vrek’s tablet chimed with a notification. 

**[VREK. YOUR ROTATION IN MEDICAL WAS SUPPOSED TO BEGIN 23 DOBOSHES AGO. REPORT TO THE MEDICAL WARD IMMEDIATELY. -ULAZ]**

With a heavy sigh, Vrek rubbed his eyes, stretched his arms above his head, and stood up. He had lost track of time entirely and neglected his duties, and yet- somehow he couldn’t bring himself to care about whatever anger he had surely awoken in Ulaz. Vrek took one last look out towards the void, hoping one last time that he would catch Keith’s arrival.

Once again letting himself linger for too long, Vrek forced himself to head to medical. 

\---

When Vrek arrived at the medical ward, he could see that Ulaz was angry. “My apologies, Ulaz. I… lost track of time. It won’t happen again.”

Vrek was surely expecting a lecture of sorts from his senior officer, and was taken aback when it didn’t come. Ulaz simply looked Vrek up and down, and replied to him with a curt, “See that it doesn’t.”

Vrek was high-strung, that much was evident to Ulaz. His eyes were slightly darkened as if he hadn’t been sleeping, he was carrying a large amount of tension in his shoulders, and Vrek was standing as if he were a bowstring tightened to the point where it was threatening to snap under the immense pressure. Any reprimand that Ulaz could have given seemed inadequate to the pain that Vrek already seemed to be living. 

“Vrek, you need to relax.” Ulaz’s gaze wandered down to Vrek’s hands.

Vrek looked down to his hands, and he found that he had been clenching his fist so tightly that his claws had actually pricked small holes in his palms. Vrek wiped the trace amounts of blood off of his hand and on to the thigh of his uniform, mustering up all the effort he could to slow his heartbeat and take a deep breath. He filled his lungs with the stale, recycled air pumped through the base’s oxygen scrubbers, and held it for a few ticks. Vrek counted to eight, and then exhaled as much of his stress as he could. He did feel a little better. 

“Danit said you agreed to organize all of the supplies that the two of you brought back?” 

Vrek nodded in acknowledgement, and Ulaz tilted his head towards the corner of the room, where crates and boxes lined the wall of the medical ward, waiting to be unpacked. “Then get to work.” Vrek was meant to be Ulaz’s relief, but… seeing Vrek the way he was, Ulaz couldn’t bring himself to leave his protege alone. He was clearly suffering from separation anxiety, and was handling the distance from his mate like a klik addict suffering through withdrawal; Vrek needed things to keep him preoccupied, and Ulaz would have to see that he wasn’t given the opportunity to dwell on Keith’s absence. 

Ulaz had worked double shifts before, and staying to keep Vrek company through his shift wouldn’t be too much of an issue. 

The bond that each set of mates shared differed from case to case. All bond mates had the ability to feel each other’s presence and learn each other’s thoughts, but the degree to which they relied upon each other was a vast spectrum. On one end of the spectrum (the most common end), were bondmates that retained a high sense of individualism and would only find themselves leaning on their bond as a crutch in the most dire of circumstances. The other end of the spectrum would present the rarer form of bond: the bond that erased the line that separated the individuals and would create an almost debilitating form of codependency. Vrek seemed to be a rather extreme case of the latter, and it made Ulaz wonder whether or not Keith was handling their separation any better than his mate was. With Keith being on mission and otherwise unreachable, it would be impossible to know for sure. 

Seeing Vrek like this, it made Ulaz wish Kolivan had consulted him before having sent the two Blades on separate missions before having fully understood the extent to which they would handle their uncoupling. Surely, short deployments would have been fine, but extended time apart was clearly inadvisable. 

And so began the gauntlet of the most mundane tasks that Ulaz could find. He had Vrek organizing, alphabetizing, and cleaning everything he could possibly think of. 

At the end of Vrek’s shift, Ulaz turned to Vrek and broached a rather delicate subject matter. “Vrek, I’ll need you to start taking hormonal suppressants immediately.”

Vrek blinked at Ulaz in surprise. “I… my next rut isn’t scheduled for another three movements, surely it wouldn’t hit me this early.”

“I understand that. But on your recent mission, Danit expressed concern that you were growing more anxious the longer your assignment took.” Before Vrek could open his mouth to protest, Ulaz continued, adding, “Nothing that would impact the mission, but a notable enough change in your usually rather predictable demeanor to warrant mentioning.”

Vrek looked like a mess. Vrek _felt_ like a mess. He knew that both Danit and Ulaz were right. Something was wrong with him and he couldn’t just ignore it. 

Ulaz continued, “Due to the delicate nature of our profession, I am required to inform Kolivan of any Blade that I provide antidepressants to. I want to avoid that. Take the hormone suppressants, and hopefully your anxiety will reduce itself to a more manageable state. I know you miss Keith, but you just need to be strong and hold out until he comes back. We can’t have you falling apart because of this.”

“I understand, Ulaz.” Vrek nodded, not realizing how much it had hurt to hear someone mention his mate’s name: each time he heard it, he felt as if someone were pulling on a thread that would unravel his entire being. 

“Good. Try to get some sleep.” 

\---

Vrek couldn’t sleep.

He tossed and he turned in the emptiness of their nest until he could bear it no longer. Each time he outstretched his arm to find his mate, he was reminded of his painful loneliness. Every time he opened his eyes, he was given subtle reminders that he was missing a large part of himself: Keith’s red jacket hanging by the door, Keith’s tablet sitting atop their nightstand, Keith’s old laundry still thrown casually across the floor, everywhere Vrek turned, all he saw was Keith, _Keith_ , **_Keith_**. He half expected to look across the room and see his mate emerge from the bathroom, as if the coldness on his side of the nest could be explained away by Keith merely sneaking off to take a vibration shower in the middle of the night. 

He couldn’t stand to be in this room any longer.

He got up and headed to a training room. 

\---

The following day, Vrek returned to the medical ward vargas before he was scheduled to. He had nothing else to do, and so he buried himself in his duties as best he could in order to drown out the oppressive amounts of sadness that was threatening to consume him. Vrek performed every duty that was meant to be divided amongst all five of the Blade medics with meticulous precision, and then _redid_ them. 

The repetition and the familiarity of the work comforted him, and it reminded him of what his life was like before Keith had come barreling into the Blades base in the Red Lion. It felt like a lifetime ago, back when his life had purpose, but no meaning. Keith had arrived and had given his fight against the Empire a _reason_. Keith had lifted him up from his mundane existence and given him a future worth fighting for-

 _No_. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t think about Keith. He needed to focus on something else. He needed to tear his thoughts away from his mate before he sunk into a hole that he wouldn’t be able to claw his way out of. 

Vrek pulled one of the hormone suppressants out of its sterile, plastic packaging, and stabbed himself in the neck with it. 

Instantly, the haze of worry started to subside from his subconscious, and his crippling fears were reduced to a more reasonable worry. He had been going through these suppressants as if they were candy, it wasn’t normal, but it was the only way he could bring himself to function. 

Another quintant passed.

  
And then another. 

And another. 

Still, no Keith.

Vrek had barely slept over the last five quintants. After his shifts in the medical ward, he would train himself until the point of exhaustion, and then dope himself up with hormone suppressants to give himself some relief from his anxieties so that he could slip into the welcome arms of unconsciousness. 

But the suppressants were becoming less and less effective with each passing dosage. What had initially given him three vargas of sleep then gave him two. Last night, he had managed one. Now, nothing was working. The suppressant that he had used had no effect on him anymore. 

Vrek placed a pillow in his mouth, digging into the softness with his sharp fangs like a teething kit, and screamed out what frustration he could. Dressing himself once more, he headed back to the training rooms.

\---

Vrek was angry, and he didn’t know why. He needed to tear into something. He needed to rip something to pieces. 

Vrek punched up the difficulty of his training regiment to the maximum setting, and deployed two bots to work his aggression out on. 

Taking on two opponents at once was a familiar pace that he was able to settle back into. It was a challenge, and a welcome one at that. Vrek was able to let his thoughts drift away from him as he could feel his mind relax to let his reflexes take control of his body. 

Using his machete-like luxite blade, Vrek danced between the two training bots, constantly side-stepping their attempts at flanking him in order to keep both of his attackers in his line of sight. He parried, he pushed forward, and he fell into a steady rhythm. Sword fighting was a game of sorts: a constant push and pull of attack and defense, and both Keith and Vrek were very adept at knowing when to properly do either. Since their bonding, their fighting styles had morphed into something more aggressive. Working in tandem with Keith, the bonded pair’s style was that of _‘attack, kill, attack, kill’_. Without his mate at his side, Vrek was able to once again build up his defensive techniques. 

Even on their highest difficulty setting, Vrek found the bots’ attack programming to be woefully inadequate, although, after fighting amongst the Galra elite at the Kral Zera, anything would be. When one of the bots raised it’s sword above its head, Vrek caught it’s wrist before it could start its follow-through. Controlling one of his attackers, Vrek yanked the bot’s arm down to cleave through its comrade, before jamming his own blade through its chest. 

His heart was pumping. His chest was heaving.

His blood was boiling. He needed more. 

Vrek set the program to deploy another two training bots, and to also deploy an additional bot every two doboshes until otherwise instructed. This would give Vrek time constraints to work under, and allow the shortcomings of the bot’s programming to be supplemented by force of numbers. 

When the two bots were deployed, Vrek sprung into action. The pretenses of his defense training forgotten, Vrek focused on the attack, allowing his rage and aggression to spill over into his actions unhindered.

He swung at the sword of one of the bots hard enough to send the training bot’s weapon to go careening from its grasp. Now defenseless, there was nothing to stop Vrek from slamming his knife into the bot from a full sprint. Both Vrek and the training bot smashed against the floor, and Vrek was quick to roll back to his feet.

 _I wish Keith were here_. The thought flashed through Vrek’s mind as he readied his blade at the remaining bot. He missed the feeling of resting his hand on his mate’s shoulder- telling him that he would be safe by his side, and that the two would fight together against whatever overwhelming odds they faced. As long as they were together, they could take on the universe.

The bot approached him cautiously, taking deliberate steps towards Vrek. When it attacked, it thrust its sword out towards Vrek and forced him to shuffle backwards.

There was a loud _‘BEEP’_ , a warning that another bot was being deployed. 

_Another attacker from the right flank._ Vrek registered. 

He stepped to the left, giving the new bot a wide berth. He dodged each attack, his impatience causing him to take every opening he thinks he sees, but coming up just short of a lethal kill as his blade grazed off the sides of the machine.

_‘BEEP’_.

_Another attacker._ He thought absently. 

Vrek’s mind wandered back to Kral Zera, when he was fighting Commander Gnov and her lieutenants. He was focused on that battle, and allowed their carelessness and arrogance to do most of the work for him. A bot rushed him too eagerly, and Vrek dropped to the floor and swept at its leg. Once the training bot had fallen to the floor, Vrek drove his knife through its faceplate. 

_‘BEEP’_.

_Threat_. The singular thought reverberated through his being. Vrek didn’t yet realize it, but he was sinking, fast. He was succumbing to numbness of his rut, and his Alpha instincts were clawing at his mind in a desperate attempt to rip his higher functions out of his brain. 

Vrek charged towards one of the bots, throwing his blade out in front of him. The bot deflected the blade with its sword, but it didn’t have enough time to recover before Vrek was on it. Vrek grabbed the hilt of the bot’s sword, and yanked it out of its grasp to pull the blade up between its synthetic legs, tearing up through its hips and disabling it. 

There was another bot still on the field, and while Vrek attacked it, his mind was someplace else entirely. He remembered what it was like at the Kral Zera, being separated from Keith. Keith was holding his own, but every glance he stole told Vrek that Keith was in danger. Vrek could remember the fear that twisted its way through his core as he watched Commander Trugg’s relentless advance towards his mate. He needed to get there. He needed to help. He needed to defend his Omega. 

He was snapped back to the present when warm liquid splashed across his face. Vrek looked down to see that he had brought a sword down into the training bot’s shoulder, and had impaled it through its entire torso. He’d likely hit some hydraulic fluid in the joints of the machine, which was what had splashed him in the face. Vrek pushed the bot to the floor, and wiped the back of his hand against his face to smear some of the fluid off of his fur. 

Vrek looked down at his hand and froze. To any other Blade, it wouldn’t have meant a thing. But the fluid that the machine had spilled all over Vrek was a deep crimson. Red. Not the color of Galran blood, but the color of human blood. 

Vrek’s eyes narrowed as he was consumed by his own instincts. He was afraid. 

_It’s not blood. It’s_ _not_ _Keith’s blood_. Vrek’s mind was swimming in fear and he was fighting a losing battle of trying to bring himself back from the edges of panic. 

_What if it was? What if it is? What if Keith is bleeding out right now and you can’t save him?_ The thoughts burned through his mind like a wildfire faster than he could stamp them out. 

_‘BEEP’._

Vrek knew that sound. 

All other thoughts in his mind were silenced as his entire existence was reduced to a single thought:

_Threat._

He bared his teeth and lunged at the enemy armed with nothing other than his claws. Vrek was gone. 

\---

It was the middle of the night cycle, and Ulaz was trying to get what little sleep he could when his tablet started to chime with urgency. 

The sound begged for Ulaz’s attention, and the fog of his sleepiness started to part to allow his cognition to return to him. Turning over in his bunk, Ulaz pulled his tablet off of his desk to see whatever problem was going to interrupt an otherwise peaceful night.

[ **EMERGENCY. ALPHA IN RUT. TRAINING ROOM 17. MEDICAL ASSISTANCE REQUIRED]**

In the blink of an eye, the grogginess of Ulaz’s disturbed slumber was washed away and replaced with searing worry. He was more alert than he would’ve thought possible. He quickly contacted the sender of the message through his tablet. “It’s Ulaz. Situation report.”

There was a pause, and a very sheepish and hesitant voice squeaked out on the other side of the comlink. “It’s… It’s Giz, sir.”

Ulaz searched through his memories to pull up a mental image of the small, young beta that worked in the engineering section of the Blades base. Giz was stationed here without any combat experience, but he was extremely proficient in maintenance and repairs. He wouldn’t be accompanying any Blade on a mission any time soon, but he was as vital a part of their operation as anyone else was. “Giz, what happened?”

“Well… Sir, I received a notification that _all_ of our training bots had been deployed. I figured that that had to be some type of programming error. So I came down to the training room to check on the console settings and found… I found…” Giz’s voice was wavering, as if he couldn’t find the words appropriate for whatever it was he had witnessed. 

“Who was the last person to enter that training room?” Ulaz didn’t need to ask. He already knew the answer, and the thought that this particular Alpha had punched his way into an early rut terrified him.

“Vrek, sir. Cyrik, Vrek.” 

_Damn it all._

“I’ll be right there, Giz. Lock the door from the outside and do not attempt to enter the room.” Ulaz ended the call, and quickly punched up a message to three other recipients. 

**[EMERGENCY. ALPHA IN RUT. PRESENCE NEEDED FOR RESTRAINT. TRAINING ROOM 17. COME IMMEDIATELY. COME UNARMED. -ULAZ]**

Ulaz sent the message to the first three betas that sprung to mind. He couldn’t risk bringing an omega to try to restrain Vrek, the alpha might think that some other omega was attempting to encroach on Keith’s territory. Betas were the safest option. Their presence was tolerated by alphas and omegas alike, through both rut and heat- their scent was inoffensive and it shouldn’t set off any red-flags in even the most rut-addled of minds. 

As a contingency, Ulaz typed up one more message on his way to the training room, and sent it out. 

**[ANTOK. VREK TRAINED HIS WAY INTO AN EARLY RUT. TRAINING ROOM 17. ASSISTANCE REQUIRED. -ULAZ]**

On his way out of the medics quarters, he stopped by the medical ward to pull out a couple vials of tranquilizers. He really hoped that Vrek wasn’t far enough gone to the point where he needed to use them. 

Ulaz walked briskly down to the training rooms. When he arrived, the three other betas that he had contacted were already waiting for him with Giz. Anyone on base would drop everything that they were doing to help one of their medics. Beyond that, though- the Blades were a family, and when your family needed help, they would always be there.

Ulaz nodded at them all. “Giz, thank you for contacting me. Ahara, Berex, Xanten, thank you for coming.” Ulaz took in a deep breath and sighed. “You all know the type of alpha that Vrek is. Since Keith’s been gone, he’s been getting progressively worse. I don’t know how bad he is right now, but it’s important we get him back to his room before he becomes a danger to himself or to anyone else. We’ll need to play this smart. Present yourselves as friends, don’t make sudden movements, and DO NOT make the first move. Clear?”

“Yes, sir.” All four of the betas answered him back. 

Ulaz had already expected the worst, and his fears were confirmed when he opened up the door to the training room. The room was littered with more mechanical parts than Ulaz had seen at an Imperial shipyard. “How long has he been in here?” Ulaz whispered back over his shoulder to Giz. 

“Almost two vargas, sir.”

_Well, he should have at least tired himself out by now._

Vrek was in the center of the room, crouched over a destroyed training bot that clearly wasn’t dead enough for his liking. Vrek was growling and digging his claws into the loose circuitry of the bot’s neck and ripping out any wiring or parts that he could get his hands around- he looked like an animal. 

When the door hissed shut behind the group of betas, Vrek’s ears flicked towards the sound a second before he turned to inspect the noise. The alpha snarled at them and backed up further into the room. 

“Easy, Vrek. We’re friends. We’re not here to hurt you.” Ulaz held up his hands, showing the rutted alpha that they were empty, and that he was not a threat. The other betas spread themselves out in a line, distancing themselves from Vrek and from each other, following Ulaz’s lead as they held out their hands for Vrek to inspect. 

Vrek stayed hunched over as if he were trying to keep himself low to the ground. He was still growling, but he wasn’t baring his teeth at them anymore. He followed his nose, sniffing at the air as he hesitantly took small steps towards Ulaz. 

\---

Vrek’s rut fogged brain made it difficult to comprehend most of his senses. His vision was glazed like vaseline smeared over a camera lens: he could make out figures and outline just fine, but any features beyond silhouettes were lost on him. He was relying on his sense of smell to drive him, and he knew what he was searching for. He needed his mate. He saw Keith as red, and he could clearly recall his omega’s scent in his brain. Keith’s scent held the smokiness of a fire, not the destructive rage of a fierce inferno, but the warmth of a smoldering campfire that Vrek would need to protect from being extinguished by a gust of wind. It was slightly spicy, and gave Vrek the feeling of home and contentment that would fill the aching emptiness in his heart.

The people before him appeared like ghosts- both there and not there, alike. Their scents were hard to focus on, but they didn’t smell like the oil and synthetic fabrications that had attacked him, so Vrek approached them to get a better grasp on who they were.

Vrek tilted his head from side to side, trying to find the best angle to inhale the scent of the one in front of him. But it was hard, the scent was so subdued that it was almost as if it wasn’t there at all. _Not omega. Not alpha_. Vrek pressed closer, straining himself, and eventually- he caught whiff of it. The scent was sterile, like cleaning agents, but underneath that, there was a sweetness that seemed entirely wrong and offensive to Vrek.

_Not Keith._

Vrek snapped his jaws at the figure and snarled, and they instantly backed away from him. Turning to the next nearest person, he tried again. Standing up to his own full height so that he could intimidate the one whose size he could dwarf with his own, Vrek placed his nose close to the figure’s neck and inhaled deeply. They seemed to shiver away from him, but they didn’t run. The scent was dry and warm… it was closer, but it was still wrong. 

_Not Keith_. 

Vrek growled at the figure and settled back into a lower stance. He tried again. 

_Not Keith._

And again. 

_Not Keith._

And again. 

_Not Keith._

His mate wasn’t amongst the group of people that were in this room with him. He was alone. He was surrounded. Anger started to swell in Vrek’s chest as the pain of his loneliness caused him to lash out with all the volatility you might expect from a wounded creature backed into a corner. 

Vrek swung wildly at the nearest person, but he was tired, he had already been fighting for so long that his attack was easily dodged. The Blade he had attempted to strike quickly ducked under his arm and choked Vrek from behind in a submission hold. 

“I got him!” They shouted. 

_Fear. Panic. Struggle. Escape_. The thoughts started to singe Vrek’s mind as he was quickly restrained by the others in the room. He was under attack, and he needed to defend himself. 

The other figures were shouting things, saying things, noises that he couldn’t comprehend. The only thing that was clear to him was that he was being trapped, his limbs were being held down and dread was shooting through his entire being. If he was restrained, he wouldn’t be able to find his mate… he wouldn’t be able to _defend_ his mate. 

After a few seconds of useless thrashing, Vrek locked his shin around the back of his assailants knee, interrupting their balance for the single moment it took for him to- 

\---

Ulaz was rushing towards Vrek, tranquilizer in hand. “Hold him still!”

Xanten had managed to wrap his arms around Vrek, and was holding him so that Ulaz could dope him. Vrek was flailing, and Ulaz knew that he only had moments to work before Vrek would be able to free himself again. Ulaz watched as Vrek locked his leg behind Xanten’s, and suddenly, Ulaz found Vrek’s other leg up in the air, with his boot placed squarely against his chest. 

Vrek kicked off of Ulaz, sending the senior medic stumbling back and causing poor Xanten to crash against the padded floor of the training room. 

“Oof-” The wind thoroughly knocked out of both betas, Vrek scrambled out of their grasp and swiped wildly at anyone that was near him. He was loose again. 

“ALPHA! STAND DOWN!” A loud voice echoed through the growls and snarls, the undertones in the booming command were laced with dominance and forcing compliance. All the betas froze in submission as Antok entered the training room, the small crowd parting to give him enough space to close the distance between himself and the other alpha in the room. 

Vrek stood up rather defiantly; he was less hostile towards Antok than he had been in the past few moments, but he was still growling. 

“Vrek, that is enough.” Antok growled back at the smaller alpha. Behind the impenetrable facemask that Antok always wore, he was baring his teeth at Vrek, and no one present would have needed to have seen his face to have known that. Antok was asserting himself as a higher ranking alpha.

Reluctantly, but inevitably, Vrek’s growl subsided, and his ears flattened back as he bowed his head in a small sign of submission to his superior. 

“You will follow these betas back to your room. They will not hurt you, and you will not hurt them. Is that understood?” 

Vrek kept his head down, but stayed silent. 

Antok grabbed a fistful of Vrek’s uniform and yanked the other alpha towards him. “Is that _understood?”_ Antok’s rumbling growl vibrated in his chest and caused one of the betas behind him to squeak in fear.

Vrek snapped his jaws at the sudden movement, but he relented nonetheless. Once Vrek nodded in acknowledgement, Antok released him, and allowed the small group of betas to escort Vrek back to his room. 

“Ulaz, a word.” Antok watched as the small group departed, and he waited until they were alone before he would speak with their medic. 

“Thank you for coming, I…” Ulaz glanced over at the litany of destroyed training bots that Vrek had left in his wake, considering for the briefest of moments that his own body could very well have been among them. “... I’m not sure what we would've done if you hadn’t shown up.”

“Of course, Ulaz. But _how_ did you let this happen? You should have been monitoring Vrek’s rut cycle. He should already be on hormone suppressants so that _this-_ ” Antok gestured to the room around them. “- didn’t happen.”

“Surely you know me better than that. Vrek’s rut isn’t scheduled for nearly another three movements, and I’ve already had him on hormone suppressants for the last few quintants. This _shouldn’t_ have happened _at all._ ”

Antok chewed on his tongue, considering Ulaz’s response. This was… unusual. “Have you heard of an alpha working themselves into a rut _this early_ before?”

“It’s unheard of. And it’s clear that the suppressants have lost their effectiveness on him. Whether or not he’s built up an immunity to them is a question for another time, but the implication that we’ll have no way to mitigate his future ruts is rather troubling.”

“So what are our options?” This conversation was making Antok uncomfortable. Both heats and ruts were normal within Galran culture, and conversations about them were as common and unreserved as conversations about the weather. To consider something as natural as a rut akin to a _sickness_ was highly insulting, but in this particular case, Vrek’s rut was debilitating, and that needed to be _fixed_. 

“Well…” Ulaz crossed his arms over his chest and stroked his chin. “Vrek’s last rut before having bonded with Keith was particularly troublesome. He reacted rather violently to all other omegas, so we needed to keep a rotation of betas with him. Even at that, he was bordering on malnourishment and still displaying signs of aggression. But it’s a starting point.”

“And if that doesn’t work?” 

“Our last resort could be to medically induce a coma and intubate him to keep him healthy.” Ulaz didn’t like that prospect. Ruts were meant to be experienced, even a suppressed rut was better than no rut at all. Galran physiology needed to take its course. “Honestly my hope would be for Keith to return within the next quintant. With his omega back at his side, Vrek’s rut would be of little concern to us."

Antok let out a heavy sigh, turning away from Ulaz before he could say what was to come next. “What if… what if Keith does not return?”

That gave Ulaz a pause. “Is there a reason to suspect that he wouldn’t? Has Kolivan heard-” Ulaz’s voice hit a higher register than it typically did. 

Before Ulaz could allow himself to get truly alarmed, Antok waved off his worry with a flick of his wrist. “Nothing concrete. And I think that if Keith had died, that we would be able to know based on Vrek’s state.”

“That… is true.” Ulaz shuddered to think about what Vrek might do if Keith’s presence disappeared from his mind. Surely what would have followed would have been… unpleasant.

“His mission was supposed to be a simple extraction. It’s been nearly an entire movement since Keith left, and we haven’t had contact with him or our agent. We should prepare ourselves for the worst.”

“Is it possible that they’ve been captured?”

“Unlikely. We’ve…” Antok stopped himself, sparing a look back towards the door to the training room before he continued in a hushed tone, “We sent a scout to Ranveig’s base and we found everything destroyed. The base, Trugg’s fleet, Ladnok’s fleet... Nothing survived. We... we have no idea what might have happened to Keith and Krolia.”

Ulaz nodded in grave understanding, but there was no sense in fretting over Keith and Krolia. Confined to the Blades base, there was nothing that they could do for them. For now, they would focus their attention on Vrek.

\---

Vrek had obeyed the other alpha and returned to his room.

He was in his nest, but this was wrong- everything was wrong. His nest wasn’t his nest without his omega here beside him. His home didn’t feel like his _home_. Vrek was pacing the room, sniffing at the door whenever he would hear any footsteps echoing down the corridor. 

He would cross to one side of the room before tracing back his footsteps back towards the other side. Every few moments, he would sniff at the air, as if trying to find- 

_There_.

Vrek caught a whiff of his mate, it was faint- but it was correct. He followed his nose, sniffing at the air in order to desperately seek out more of the pleasurable scent. 

Next to the entryway to the room, hanging by the door, was the bright red jacket that Keith had always worn during his days as the Red Paladin of Voltron. Vrek scooped up the jacket in both of his arms, holding the fabric close and tight to his chest as if he could picture it being Keith himself. He ran his face up against the neckline and flared his nostrils wide in an attempt to inhale every lingering modicum of scent that he could from the article of clothing. 

_Safe. Home. Warm_. Vrek’s mind eased as he let the spicy smell of his mate seep into the grey matter of his brain. He could feel his shoulders ease as all of the muscles in his body relaxed at the mere remnants of his mate’s scent long gone. When Vrek was finally able to free himself from the seductive smells, he was pulled back to reality. A growl rumbled in Vrek’s chest as he turned his head in either direction, searching for enemies that weren’t there- thinking that in his single moment of vulnerability that he had lowered his guard and allowed himself to become surrounded. It took a moment before he could calm himself down. He was still safe. He was still alone. Keith still wasn’t here. 

Vrek looked down at the jacket, and then let his eyes scan the room to see if he could track down more of his mate’s residual scent. 

_More_. 

Vrek held the red jacket tightly against his chest -as if fate itself would try to tear it from his grasp- and began to hunt down every article of his mate’s clothing. Closets were opened, drawers were up-ended, dressers were emptied, until all of Keith’s clothes -from his uniforms to his underwear- were in a pile in their nest. 

Still clutching on to Keith’s jacket for dear life, Vrek climbed down into their nest and smothered himself in his mate’s clothes. Tears welled up in Vrek’s eyes as he bathed in Keith’s smells. He was still alone, but with this gentle reminder of his mate pressing into his most delicate of senses, Vrek was finally able to let himself fall asleep.

\---

Ulaz’s plan had backfired horrifically, as was evident by the minor cuts and claw marks he was having to clean for a multitude of betas on the base. 

Vrek’s rut was becoming a significant problem, as the alpha wasn’t even allowing betas near his nest: any intrusion into his room appeared to him like an offense, and he had lashed out at everyone who had tried to gain entry. Vrek’s aggression made it impossible for him to be given free reign of the base, and as a result, Kolivan had ordered his room to be locked from the outside. Locking Vrek inside of his room seemed like a temporary solution at best, and no sooner were they trying to formulate a new plan of action had Vrek actually _clawed_ the door to his room open with sheer brute force. After that incident, Kolivan had Vrek’s door magnetized so that there was no chance of Vrek possibly escaping.

Vrek’s confinement was a double-edged sword: having him in one place made him easy to supervise- and preventing him from trying to train meant that he wasn't expending excess calories that he didn’t have. At the same time, because Vrek couldn’t _go_ anywhere, food and water would need to be brought to him, and Vrek had adamantly refused to accept anything from anyone. It had been three quintants, and surely by now Vrek was experiencing severe fatigue from both malnutrition and dehydration. 

Ulaz was supposed to present options to both Antok and Kolivan for how to deal with Vrek’s rut. The rutting alpha was becoming a threat to everyone on base, and if they did not intervene now, his own health would be at a severe risk. It was agreed upon by the medical staff of the Blade of Marmora that Vrek would indeed need to be restrained and intubated; however, before that, they would need to retrieve Vrek without further incident.

“Perhaps,” Kolivan offered up his thoughts, “I could command him to remove himself from his room? Like Antok, I am his superior, he should recognize that.”

Ulaz shook his head. “No. I would advise against that. The training room situation was one thing, but another alpha appearing at his nest? That would be something else entirely. He would see it as a legitimate threat to his territory.”

“So what options do we have, then?” Antok asked. 

As Ulaz mulled over the (albeit limited) options in his head, his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. The attention of Ulaz, Antok, and Kolivan were drawn to Regris, as he stood in the doorway to the Medical ward.

Regris’ back straightened slightly under the scrutiny of his superior officers. “I… I would like to request permission to see Vrek.”

Kolivan’s didn’t miss a beat when he replied to Regris with “Denied.”

Regris slouched in defeat, his eyes falling to the floor as he nodded in response to his leader and turned to take his leave.

“Regris,” Ulaz stopped him. “What makes you ask?”

Regris’ ears perked up, and his scales flickered an eager and excited green through his cheeks. “Well… when Keith returned from the Kral Zera, he stayed the night in my quarters. I still have the clothes he wore from that night. I had figured that maybe I could present this to Vrek to show him that I’m friends with his omega. Maybe he might recognize me, then.”

Ulaz looked back at Kolivan and gave their leader a shrug. “It’s the only idea we’ve had so far.”

The intensity of Kolivan’s stare almost made Regris’ knees buckle as he asked the omega. “You understand that this is a very delicate situation. Regardless of your prior affiliation, Vrek might not recognize you. Are you willing to place yourself in that kind of danger?”

Regris had already thought about it. He wouldn’t be backing down from this, no matter how dangerous it was. “I have to try.”

\---

Regris had Keith’s clothes tucked under his arm, and was walking down the hallway with Ulaz back towards the bond mate’s section of the base. Ulaz was explaining something to him, but most of what Ulaz was saying was drowned out by the incessant thumping of Regris’ heart beating in his ears. He was worried, not necessarily for his own sake, but for Vrek’s. 

Regris had been on death-defying missions before: missions where he had escaped ambush and booby-traps all by the skin of his teeth. Death didn’t frighten Regris anymore; as a Blade, you couldn’t let your own death scare you. However, it was the death of his brothers and sisters that petrified Regris, and he knew that the other Blades felt the same way. If Vrek were to hurt him during his rut, he knew that the alpha would be inconsolable. So this had to go right… for Vrek’s sake. 

“... someone from medical will be stationed near the room for the next 20 vargas, so if you think you’re in danger, shout.” Both Ulaz and Regris stopped outside of the door to Vrek and Keith’s room, allowing the realness of the situation to finally dawn on them.

“I’ll be okay, Ulaz.” Regris offered Ulaz a smile, but the smile itself was hollow, and it was doing a poor job of masking the fear that was flashing across his face in iridescent purple hues. 

“Just try to get him to agree to come to medical. Update me on his condition if you can. Good luck, and… thank you for doing this for him.” Ulaz laid a hand on Regris’ shoulder, letting the omega feel his sympathy and his appreciation as best he could. It was odd for Regris: he had known Ulaz for some time, but the medic never seemed to let the camaraderie and casualness of friendship bleed through to his professionalism… at least not outside of helping Regris with his heats. This was a side of Ulaz that few were privy to see, and Regris was privileged to be amongst the handful of Blades that Ulaz relaxed around. 

“I’m his friend. It’s the least I could do.” Regris nodded, indicating to Ulaz that he was ready. 

Ulaz took a few steps back to hide himself from sight, and gave Regris ample room.

Both Regris and Ulaz held their breath as Regris deactivated the lock on the door to Vrek’s room. The door hissed open, and immediately- Vrek was at the edge of the room, growling and baring his fangs to the intruder in an attempt to defend his nest. 

Regris thrust his arms out, and presented Vrek with the small bundle of clothes that he had been carrying. They still smelled like Keith, and hopefully, Regris still smelled a little like Keith, too. 

Vrek’s growling stopped immediately. The alpha cocked his head from side to side, and let his nose guide him closer to the wad of fabric that was being presented to him. Vrek sniffed at the clothes from every angle, until he allowed himself to take a few more steps towards Regris, now inspecting the amphibious Blade’s own scent. 

To Vrek, Regris smelled entirely different from _his_ omega; whereas Keith was all fire, Regris was all water: with his scent echoing that of a river in a lush forest. It wasn’t Keith, but Keith’s scent still lingered on this other omega, and if Vrek focused, he could almost recall the pleasant memories of his time with Keith in the hot springs of a distant planet in the combined scents that stood before him. It was acceptable. 

Vrek stepped back into his room, and expectantly looked at Regris. 

_Okay_ , thought Regris. _Foot’s in the door, and he hasn’t gone for my jugular. So far, so good._

When Regris stalled for a tick too long in the entryway, Vrek grabbed the arm of the Blade and pulled him into the room. After throwing a quick warning growl out in the direction of the hallway (towards no one in particular), Vrek led Regris over to the altar of clothes that laid in the middle of his nest, and gestured for Regris to add what he had brought to the pile. 

Regris’ heart caught in his throat as he looked between Vrek, and the small stack of clothes that he was now huddling himself around. It was pitiful. Vrek couldn’t find his mate, and so the closest approximation that would give him a semblance of peace were these meager scraps of his mate’s scent. 

Vrek lowered all defenses, both physical and emotional, as he let out a soft whine and placed both his arms across himself. One of Vrek’s hands clutched at his chest: there was an emptiness in Vrek that he was having trouble defining, as if there were both a gaping wound in his chest that he was trying in vain to apply pressure to, and a clawing at his insides of something trying to get out. Vrek’s other hand came to a rest against his shoulder, over where Regris was certain his bond mark would be. He was in pain. Vrek was experiencing a devastating amount of hurt that couldn’t be mended or soothed; his heart was in tatters and Regris was hopeless to quell the incomprehensible amounts of emotional torment that Vrek was feeling.

Regris had never seen a rutting alpha so… vulnerable... before. There was a stark contrast between the broken thing before him and the whispers of the dangerous, feral alpha that were now circulating amongst the Marmora base. Regris slowly reached out to Vrek, and placed one of his hands against the side of Vrek’s head. There was no growl, and Vrek did not flinch away from the touch- instead, Vrek pressed his face against Regris’ palm, allowing Regris to comfort him. Regris’ presence here wasn’t just being _tolerated_ , it was _appreciated_. 

Vrek had been alone for so long. He had been afraid of the threats that awaited him outside the confines of his nest, and he had been afraid that the crippling loneliness he was feeling would be all that he would ever know. To find a friend -even if it wasn’t _his_ omega- was relief. 

“Where… is… Keith…?” Vrek’s jawline was set with tension, as the alpha was clearly having to strain himself to find any sort of comprehension through his hazy, rut-addled mind. 

Regris pulled Vrek against his side and embraced him, holding Vrek and carding his claws through the alpha’s fur for several long moments before he responded with, “He’s on a mission right now, Vrek.”

Vrek’s brow furrowed in confusion, as if he had forgotten the entire context of the Blade’s struggle against the Empire. For a brief moment, Regris envied Vrek: to exist in a world without the oppressive regime of the Empire -even under these circumstances- was still a world that Regris would want to visit. 

“He’s not here right now, Vrek.” Regris clarified. 

The answer made Vrek’s face fall, his heart rate quicken, the panic was evident in the poor alpha. “Keith… left me…?” The question was posed through choked tears and aborted breaths. Vrek didn’t understand what was happening, and he was on the verge of hyperventilating. 

“No, no. No, Vrek. Keith didn’t leave you. He’ll be back soon.” Regris squeezed Vrek in his embrace, reminding him that he wasn’t alone. “Keith loves you. He would never leave you.”

Regris tapped a clawed finger across the bond bracelet that was fitted and tied off around Vrek’s wrist, bringing the alpha’s attention back to what he had apparently forgotten. “What does this tell you, Vrek?”

Vrek stared at the bond bracelet, searching through his memories and grasping at the significance. He closed his eyes as he let himself feel the warmth of Karrahe’s sun once again, and recalled all the emotions that had filled him at the time. “That… Keith… will come back.”

Vrek wrapped a hand around his wrist, shielding the bond bracelet from sight and protecting it as if it were the physical manifestation of Keith’s promise to return to him. 

The two sat quietly for quite some time, with Vrek refusing to sleep, but still finding solace in Regris’ warm embrace. Regris wasn’t _his_ mate, and he wasn’t _his_ omega, but he was still a friend in what would seem like an ocean of fear, and Vrek would still protect him. 

Regris ran his hands up and down Vrek’s back, trying his best to soothe the alpha and help quell the fears of his rut. Vrek was in bad shape. Even through the softness of his fur, Regris could feel his rib cage underneath his fingertips as his hand danced down his spine. He _needed_ medical attention. 

“Vrek-?” Regris cleared his throat as he gently shook the alpha that was laying against him. 

Vrek’s ears perked up at the noise, and he immediately covered Regris’ body with his own, letting out a loose growl over his shoulder and back towards the door as if Regris was alerting him to an incoming attack. 

_Protect_ , was the only thought that occupied Vrek’s mind, and the growl that rumbled through his chest was sure to reassure the omega with him that there was a safety in their nest tantamount to nothing else.

Regris held on to Vrek and cooed softly to him, convincing the alpha that they were in no danger. Vrek was afraid for both of them, and the fears (founded or not) would need to be quelled if Vrek were to leave the safety of his nest. “I just need to go to medical. Will you come with me?”

Vrek stared up at Regris with big, confused eyes. His mind was trying desperately to wrap around whatever it was he was being told, but it was of little use. Vrek has sunken so far into his rut that only his basest of instincts held the reins of his mind. Even language was a concept he would have to struggle to decipher. _If only_ his mate were here- his mate would understand everything through their bond. 

Regris carefully removed himself from Vrek’s embrace, attempting to show him that his intent was to leave. Without hesitation, Vrek latched on to Regris, and Regris found that no sooner had he attempted to stand that Vrek had caught his sleeve in his grasp. A soft whimper escaped from Vrek’s throat, as he desperately tried to tug Regris back into his nest. He didn’t want anyone else to leave him. 

“Can you come with me, Vrek?” Regris nodded his head in the direction of the door. 

“We… find Keith…?” Vrek’s voice was shaking, cracking briefly as if he were a kit still in the throes of adolescence. 

Regris didn’t know if he could do this, his heart was breaking for reasons he couldn’t quite lock down. He couldn’t bear to look at the desperation in Vrek’s eyes. He didn’t want to have to lie, but he steered himself to look back at Vrek and decided that he was doing what he had to do. “After medical, we can find Keith.”

Vrek bounced up from the nest with renewed vigor and headed out into the hall. He was careful to exit the room before Regris, and throughout the entire journey to the medical ward, Vrek was sure to shield Regris with his own body. He needed something to defend. 

Before Regris followed Vrek out the door, he informed Ulaz of their incoming arrival and asked for all other Blades to clear a path for them. 

Their journey was slow, with Vrek acting overly cautious and checking every corner before deciding it was safe enough for Regris to follow. Vrek wasn’t necessarily sure where they were headed, but he followed his nose and attempted to lead Regris down the safest possible path; whenever Vrek would catch a whiff of another alpha, he would grunt in frustration before shaking the scent out of his head and tugging his companion in the opposite direction. Regris had to redirect Vrek a few times on their trek, gently guiding the alpha down the proper hallways to lead them to the medical ward. With all the detours the pair had to make, the journey that should have taken them no more than five doboshes ended up taking them nearly a varga. 

When they arrived at medical, the entire contingent of medical staff was backed up against the far wall of the room to give Vrek enough space to not feel threatened. Ulaz gestured towards the single injection vial that was set out on the table nearest the entrance, and Regris took his cue. 

Vial in one hand and Vrek’s arm in the other, Regris nudged Vrek to pull his attention away from the others in the room. “Do you trust me?”

Vrek nodded silently, and allowed Regris to place the vial up against his arm and inject him with what he did not know to be a sedative. 

The numbness started in Vrek’s fingers and started to radiate up from his extremities. His mind was dragged further and further down into a deep abyss. He was heavy, and soon he couldn’t find the strength to hold himself upright. A tremor shot through his legs, and he quickly found himself hurtling towards the floor, but instead of being greeted by the harsh metal surface, he found himself caught in the soft strength of Regris’ arms.

There should have been panic. Vrek was losing consciousness, and he knew that if he wasn’t awake, he wouldn’t be able to protect anyone. But instead, where there should have been fear, Vrek only found Regris, the omega, gently whispering to him, “You’re going to be alright,” and soon enough, Vrek had fallen into a deep, medicated slumber. 

\---

The optics were undeniably bad. 

Vrek was currently on a medical table with a privacy curtain drawn up around his new small corner of the medical ward. Once the alpha had lost consciousness, the medical staff worked quickly to intubate him to help combat his malnourishment, and to set him up with a saline drip to help his dehydration. 

Vrek was being given a rotation of sedatives to keep him pliant for the next few quintants. Most likely, it would take another two quintants for his rut to settle, but Ulaz recommended that Vrek he kept under for a third, for good measure to be sure that he was past his rut. The Blades didn’t need any more surprises. 

Ulaz had not seen a rut that had needed to be handled in such an extreme manner- and he was hoping to avoid any other alphas on base from seeing Vrek in this condition and questioning the biological imperatives that were dormant in them. 

_Would they be this bad? Would this need to happen to them? Was it something to do with bonding?_ Ulaz could already hear all the questions that were sure to arise from this unfortunate outcome and he was already irritated by it. _No, this was not normal. No, this will not happen to you. And no, this isn’t_ _solely_ _due to the bonding._

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Ulaz let out a deep sigh and contemplated the single saving grace of these circumstances: at least Keith can’t see this. The small human would surely have been wrought with worry, and would have panicked at seeing his mate on the life-supporting systems he was currently attached to. 

Ulaz hoped he would never have to do this to Vrek again. 

Vrek looked like he was on the edge of death. Motionless on a medical bed, head canted back at an awkward angle and tubes shoved straight down his throat. The machines that were monitoring his heart rate and breathing beeped ceaselessly day and night- telling Ulaz that Vrek’s heart rate was faster than it should be, and that his breathing was constantly labored. Even in the depths of unconsciousness, Vrek’s rut still wouldn’t let him relax. 

He would just need to ride this out. 

\---

The feeding tubes were removed from Vrek’s throat on the third and final night of his stay. The dosage of his sedatives were gradually reduced on the third quintant, and on the morning of the fourth, he was allowed to wake naturally. 

Bright, artificial lights bled through Vrek’s eyelids before he’d fully woken from his coma. The strain from his muscles was apparent when he attempted to cover his sensitive eyes from the overwhelming fluorescents that were forcing him awake. _Medical_. Realization returned to him. He had to be in medical, it was the only place in the Blades base that was so unendurably well-lit. 

Vrek groaned with the effort as he opened his eyes and pulled himself into a sitting position. He swung his legs off the side of the bed, and proceeded to stretch his arms out above his head in a practiced and familiar movement.

Ulaz was already standing across from him, placing a packet of water down next to a cup of olfracta. “How do you feel?”

“Like I was hit by a bus.” The response came out of Vrek almost automatically, words that sounded remarkably like they’d fallen out of Keith’s mouth. When Vrek continued, it was in the pitch, candor, and efficiency that Ulaz was used to hearing from Vrek. “Slight muscle atrophy, nausea, sore throat, photosensitivity, and general fatigue. I’ll be fine in a few vargas.” 

While most patients would have responded with a simple ‘good’ or ‘bad’, Vrek’s experience allowed him to communicate exactly what Ulaz was really asking for, and Ulaz was all the more thankful to have his medic back with him. The symptoms were expected, and Vrek didn’t list anything else that would be cause for concern. Ulaz could breathe a sigh of relief knowing that there were no further complications, and that soon, everything would return to normal.

Vrek paused after giving his diagnosis, rubbing the back of his neck and staring directly at the floor in front of Ulaz. “Is Keith back?”

Ulaz hesitated. He should have expected that question. “No. But, I’m sure he’s fine.” A battle was being waged inside of Ulaz, debating whether or not what morsels of news he had regarding Keith’s mission that he should reveal to Vrek. In the end, he decided that if what news he had would give him peace of mind, it would be worth whatever reprimand he would surely receive from Kolivan. “He should be with Krolia, his mother. She won’t let any harm come to him.”

Vrek processed the words, before leveling an icy gaze at Ulaz. “Are we sure she won’t abandon him again if given the chance?” The information that Ulaz had given him did not have the calming effect that he had hoped it would have had, and in fact, it seemed to have given Vrek yet another thing to fret over.

Kolivan trusted Krolia, and it was unfortunate that there were few Vrek was willing to trust when it came to his mate’s well-being. Regardless, the information was out there, and he could not take it back. “For now, know that Krolia has the trust and respect of both myself _and_ Kolivan, and if you still fail to place faith in her as Keith’s mother, at least place your faith in her as a fellow Blade. I’m sure the three of you are certain to share some words upon their return.”

Vrek’s nod was solemn, indicating that _yes, indeed they would_. Vrek had many questions for Krolia. Keith didn’t hold his mother in much contempt, as she was but the first in a string of people who would give up and leave him throughout the course of his life. Keith had been resigned to his mother’s absence, and would surely hold no grudge against the woman- so, Vrek would allow himself to be angry on his mate’s behalf. Krolia’s actions had laid the foundation for much of the emotional trauma that Keith was still coping with today, and Vrek would not let that damage be so easily forgiven.

 _Later_. He assured himself. _There would be time for these thoughts later._

Vrek all but inhaled the contents of the water packet. Surely he was kept well hydrated during his stay, but his throat and jaw still ached with the tell-tale dryness that indicated he had been on a feeding tube for a few quintants time. Which prompted him to ask, “How bad was it?”

“Quite bad.” Ulaz reached over and handed his friend the cup of olfracta, and let Vrek nurse a few sips of the liquid before he continued. “Only minor injuries were sustained by the parties involved with trying to calm you down. But you had us all worried. It was Regris that actually got through, and was able to lead you here so that we could take care of you.”

Vrek could vaguely recall the events that had transpired over the last few quintants, but a part of him did remember the warmth of being held by Regris, and the calm reassurances that he did not have to be alone. Vrek had assisted with Regris’ heat in the past, but what had transpired here was more than simply returning that favor. Vrek _could have_ killed him. “Then it seems as if I owe Regris my gratitude.”

“You should also thank him for cleaning up your quarters while you were under.” Ulaz gave a small chuckle, shaking his head as if to rattle free the memory of Regris pacing circles around the medical ward while they had been working on Vrek. Regris insisted on staying at his side until Ulaz had kindly _demanded_ that he find something else to preoccupy himself with so that he and his staff could work. Ulaz wasn’t precisely sure about how Regris felt about Keith and Vrek, but regardless, the clear admiration that Regris had for the bonded pair was… _cute_. 

“Oh, and-” Ulaz continued, “you did manage to destroy 36 of our training bots before you were subdued. You should send an apology to Schippa. Her maintenance team is going to be working tirelessly to repair all the damage you caused. You should be afraid of her wrath.”

“If I was able to destroy that many bots, shouldn’t _she_ be afraid of _me?”_

“Shall we find out? I can summon her here to medical now that you’re awake.” Ulaz picked his tablet up off the table, and made a show of pulling up the list of contacts on the base. The tone that Ulaz took was almost teasing, and this was a side of the senior medic that few were able to glimpse at through his professional exterior.

“Oh, ancestors no. She’d wipe the floor with me.” Both Vrek and Ulaz shared a laugh, the two of them both picturing the stocky Blade mechanic viciously beating Vrek with every manner of instrument held in the toolbag she constantly had strapped around her waist. 

Once their laughter had died down, Ulaz crossed over to Vrek and placed his hand on his comrade’s shoulder. “Take the rest of the quintant off. Relax. Recover. With any luck, the worst of this is behind us. I’ll see you here bright and early tomorrow for your shift.”

Vrek downed what remained of his olfracta, and rose to his feet. Everything would be alright. Ulaz was certain that Keith was safe, and despite his own reservations, he trusted Ulaz. Now all he needs to do is wait diligently for his mate to return. 

It was hope.

But the two medics should have known that, as Blades, luck was never on their side. Their lives were a constant uphill battle. They shouldn’t have let their guard down for even the brief moment of laughter that they had shared, because the worst was certainly not behind them.

The base was attacked the following morning.

\------------------------------------------------

**Special thanks!**   
  
  


A very sincere and warm special thanks goes out to three particular people for helping me with this chapter:

First and foremost, [@greenerghosty](https://www.instagram.com/greenerghosty/) for illustrating the first fully colored and fully realized version of Vrek. I mean UUUGH, isn't he just _PERFECT?_ _LOOK_ at those sharp cheekbones! _LOOK_ at that chiseled jawline! _LOOK_ at those fluffy ears! Those piercingly gold eyes! Good lord, he's just _SO HANDSOME_. What a PRIME Galra specimen. Please, _please, **PLEASE**_ give Green a follow on every social media account you have. Their work is absolutely stunning and we NEED to catapult their work to the top of the VLD fandom. They've got _BEAUTIFUL_ pieces of Galra OC's, Lotor's Generals (a.k.a. Keith's Lesbians), and some heart-meltingly gorgeous Veraxca pieces that I highly encourage everyone to gaze upon and admire. From what I understand, they're figuring out commissions now- so if you love Voltron as much as I do, please give them your support!

Secondly, I'd like to thank [HypotheticalWoman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HypotheticalWoman) for helping me nail down what Vrek's rut experience would be like. Initially, Vrek's disastrous rut was going to be mentioned in a few brief sentences at the beginning of the next chapter, but, after some pointers on how Vrek's rut would proceed _without_ Keith and some insight in to how awful of a situation that would put everyone in- I eventually made the decision to spin-off Vrek's rut in to it's own chapter. I hope that you all enjoyed it.

Finally, I would like to thank [theinnernerdwrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theinnernerdwrites/pseuds/theinnernerdwrites) here on Ao3 for allowing me the use of their Blade OC, Xanten, from their fic: [The Shadow of a Prince](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15688947/chapters/36454563). Their fic is a _Klance_ piece about the Altean Prince Lance having to acquiesce to the demands of having to take a Galra Blade of Marmora member as their bodyguard. I really, _really_ love using other people's OC's -even in offhanded mentions- to help bridge each of these worlds (and characters) together. Hopefully, if people recognize each of these recurring peripheral characters across different stories, it will lend these character's existence more credence within the universe. _The Shadow of a Prince_ is also a very wonderful read and their comprehension of the emotional fragility of each of their characters is astounding. If you haven't already, I recommend checking it out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Artist Credit: @greenerghosty on Twitter/ tumblr/ and Instagram
> 
> Next up, Chapter 12: Heartbreak
> 
> Sorry to leave you all on THAT kind of cliffhanger...
> 
> I did say that the strength of their attachment is... unhealthy... and that's on full display here.
> 
> Did you like reading Vrek fall apart throughout the course of this chapter? I had a ton of fun writing this, and it was a challenge trying to illustrate the slow descent into Vrek's rut... before he finally snapped in the training room. Did you have a favorite part? Let me know in the comments! I personally really enjoyed writing Regris as the helping hand in the darkness: providing Vrek with some small semblance of comfort as he's being held and reminded that he's not alone. <3
> 
> As always, thank you SO MUCH for reading!  
> Final chapter: HERE WE GO!


	12. Heartbreak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith is gone. Vrek is alone. The base is under attack, and the Blades make what could be their final stand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Tag inclusion: Major Character Death

Vrek had been stationed at medical with Ulaz; the two medics had been in idle conversation about how to properly synthesize immunizations for Galra hybrids when the entire base began to tremble. Ulaz looked at Vrek, and when their expressions of concern turned to worry, and then from that of worry to that of panic- the two Blades immediately began to prep their medical stations to begin receiving patients. 

The next thunderous roar had hit closer than the previous shelling, and the booming of incoming artillery fire was audible even this deep within the asteroid that they had called home. 

Their leader’s voice rang through the base intercom, the calmness in his voice betraying the severity of the situation, and allowing the Blades some semblance of comfort as they faced the heart of danger. “Blades, we are under attack from a Galra battlecruiser. Man battlestations and prepare to return fire.”

Screams echoed down the hallway of the medical ward, and no sooner than Vrek was able to sanitize his station and pull on a pair of gloves did he find the door whooshing open. It was Regris, his uniform was covered in the tell-tale black and silver splash of carbon scoring: he had been mere inches away from getting vaporized in the first barrage. Regris was carrying another Blade in his arms -it was Lastor- and he had multiple puncture wounds in his leg and was bleeding all over Regris’ uniform and leaving a trail of vibrant purple blood behind him.

“Shrapnel. We were in the cafeteria. There are more wounded, I’ll bring them here.” Regris dropped Lastor onto the table in front of Vrek and bolted back out of the entrance.

Lastor was screaming in pain, as bits of plastoid and metal had shredded through the Blade’s side. Vrek gripped Lastor’s face in his hand, scanning his pupils to see if they’d dilated. 

“What have we got?” Ulaz appeared at Vrek’s side- ready to assist in any way he could.

“Multiple punctures and contusions. Debris seems to have missed all major arteries. Dope him and I’ll pull out all the shrapnel I can.” Vrek’s assessment was concise and to the point. There was no time for anything else. 

Everything started to happen all at once as medical burst into a flurry of movement. Danit and Keenwar -two of the other three Blade medics- ran into the room and awaited orders. Ulaz stabbed Lastor in the arm with a combination of antiseptics and narcotics and disappeared from Vrek’s side to begin issuing orders to the others. 

“Danit, triage patients. Keenwar, combat treat those with minor injuries: get them on their feet and get them moving. Any other cases, send them to me or Vrek.” Ulaz’s orders were met with a simultaneous “ _Yes, sir_ ” from both the other medics- who barely had enough time to man their posts before Regris returned with two other wounded Blades in tow. Once Regris had deposited one with Keenwar and one with Ulaz, he disappeared again.

Vrek was entirely focused on his patient. Lastor had stopped screaming, and his breathing had slowed once the narcotics took effect- allowing Vrek the focus he needed to pull out small bits of jagged metal and plastoid from the Blade’s wounds. 

Ilun was next to arrive to medical, and while Ilun seemed unscathed, she was dragging behind her the limp and partially dismembered body of one of their comrades. Ilun started to stammer out, “We were... he was… we’d been talking... and... one second... he just… he just...”

Vrek finished removing everything he could from Lastor’s wounds, pulling out all the small fragments that would’ve continued to shred muscles if he’d tried moving. Inserting a small nozzle into each of the gaping injuries, Vrek filled each hole with a liberal amount of medigel- stopping the bleeding and accelerating his body’s own healing process. “Bench one: stable.” He shouted out to the other three medics in the room. 

Danit was on the floor with Ilun. Ilun had her arms around the shoulders of the dead Blade she was dragging, refusing treatment herself and begging Danit to look after her friend. The blood from the amputated corpse began to pool in the doorway to medical. Vrek crouched down in front of Ilun, snapping his fingers in front of her face before shining a light in her eyes. “Ilun? Ilun, look at me.”

Ilun was incoherent, babbling nonsense as her words started to staccato with each sharp inhale of her breath. She was going into shock. 

“Danit, anesthetic now.” Vrek ordered, holding his hand open for his cohort to deposit an injection vial into his grasp. Vrek stabbed the vial against the exposed artery of Ilun’s throat, and soon enough, the paralytic took effect and Ilun slouched over in unconsciousness. In between taking patients, Keenwar removed the dead Blade from the sight of the other patients.

Regris returned to medical once more carrying another Blade, this one had a plasma burn across the side of his face. Regris’ uniform was now soaked in the blood of his cohorts, the dark purple liquid dripping off of the folds of the fabric and trailing after each step. Danit had Regris place the injured Blade on a spare table, but before Regris could disappear, Vrek caught him by the arm.

“Regris, I need you to move Ilun into one of the seats over there.” Vrek gestured towards the wall opposite the entry way, and Regris instantly obliged, hefting Ilun’s unconscious body over his shoulder and sliding her into one of the seats. “And I need you to stay with her.”

Regris opened his mouth to protest, to tell Vrek that there were still others that needed his help. Vrek silenced these concerns by placing a hand on Regris’ shoulder, gently pushing him down into the seat next to Ilun. “Regris, you’ve done enough. We need you here.”

Vrek placed his hand on the side of Regris’ face, and turned his head so that he could see the charred scales that were hidden by his uniform’s hood. He pulled down Regris’ hood to find that whatever blast had singed his uniform had also seared Regris and given him severe burns down the side of his head. Vrek would assume that the uniform didn’t entirely shield him from whatever blast he had narrowly avoided, and that such burns probably lined Regris’ entire side. “It’s not too bad…” Regris winced as Vrek’s fingertips grazed some of the burns. Vrek’s gaze was one of sheer pain at the sight of his friend shouldering an injury and pretending it didn’t bother him, and he let his hand linger across Regris’ face for seconds longer than would be professionally acceptable. 

“ _Regris…_ ”

But the reality of the situation demanded his professionalism. Vrek couldn’t let his mind dwell on the personal implications of his patients. It would cause him to hesitate, and right now, he needed to be focused. Vrek signaled Keenwar over, but was met with stout protests from Regris. “No, I’m fine. There are others here in need of help. See to them.”

Understanding his brother in arms’ wishes, he didn’t argue. Instead only offering, “Something for the pain, then?”

Regris nodded, accepting that. 

“Do it.” Vrek ordered Keenwar, letting his eyes meet Regris’ one more time before turning his attention back to his previous charge.

The Blade on the next operating table was another Galra, like himself. He was clutching at his face with both of his hands, the entire left side of his face was burned as if he had taken a glancing blow from a laser blast. Vrek took his wrists in his hands and gingerly removed them from his face so that he could inspect the damage. “What’s your name?”

“Crag, sir.” The Blade winced as the cool air stung at his open wounds. He was young. Most likely he was one of the Blades’ newer recruits. 

It wasn’t as bad as it could have been: the flash from whatever blast the Blade had taken head-on had left him permanently blind in one eye. Crag’s blood had dripped down his face, and was blinding him in his other. Luckily, at least one of these was easily rectifiable. Vrek tilted Crag’s head back, and emptied a small packet of some water into his blood-filled eye. “Alright, Crag, I’ve got good news and bad news. The good news is that you’re going to be getting a cybernetic eye- much better than what you were working with before. The bad news, is that that’s going to have to wait, okay? For now we can address some of these burns and get you patched up.”

Vrek nodded in the direction of Crag, and suddenly Keenwar was there next to him, leading Crag off of the operating table and onto a bench where he could apply a burn-ointment and bandage the young boy’s head.

Vrek had no shortage of patients. The varga passed in a blur of snapped bones, torn flesh, and ripped sinews. 

“Where is Segrani?” Ulaz shouted from across the room, having particular trouble holding a Blade down with one hand while he pulled a piece of rebar out with the other. “I _need_ an orderly.”

It was a nightmare, an absolute worst case scenario. Blade after Blade kept filing in to the medical ward. Missing arms, missing fingers, crushed by debris, wounded by shrapnel, impaled by pieces of foundations. Danit was able to form solid lines for Keenwar, Ulaz, and Vrek- with Keenwar addressing all the minor injuries of the _‘routine’_ patients and Ulaz and Vrek dividing the responsibilities of the _‘priority’_ patients. 

Vrek’s arms were drenched in blood up to his elbows. He was moving from one patient to the next without any break, and he still needed to move quicker. His heart sank when he had approached the next occupied table to find that his patient had already bled out before he’d even gotten the chance to survey the injuries that he had sustained. For every four patients that he could save, there was one that he couldn’t. He was trying to remain calm, and he was trying not to let the gravity of his failures impact his work.

By this point, Regris was working as their orderly. Removing dead bodies from the ward and escorting those that had been treated out of the room. 

Their work was without end. There were more patients to treat than there were already treated. None of the medics knew what the situation outside of the confines of their small ward was, but they knew that it was getting worse; they didn’t understand that the single Galra battlecruiser that had arrived and had turned into two ships… which then became four... and before long, an entire fleet was knocking at their doorstep. All they could do was focus on the people in front of them, on the brothers and sisters in desperate need of their help. 

Kolivan’s voice echoed through the base once more as he updated the Blades. “Prepare for full evacuation. Ready transports and begin scrubbing the base of all relevant information. All able bodies prepare to repel borders.”

All the medics looked at one another for a brief second. They had all been in the middle of something. Keenwar was trying to reset a Blade’s dislocated shoulder, Ulaz was cauterizing the wound of a Blade whose arm had been torn off by a bulkhead door sealing itself, and Vrek was creating a splint for a Blade who had broken their leg carrying someone else here. 

Ulaz finished with his patient and addressed the room. “There is a medical frigate docked in hangar beta-three. If you can walk, help carry your brothers and sisters there.”

Regris hoisted Ilun’s unconscious body over a shoulder, and used his free hand to unsheathe his own luxite blade. “I’ll make sure they get there.” He gave Vrek a nod, the small smile crossing his face to tell the medic that he’d see him again soon.

Ulaz commanded the room once more. “Danit, Keenwar. I need you both to head to the ship and prep for emergency dust-off. Vrek, you and I will do a final sweep of the base to see if there is anyone else that needs help making it to the transports.”

The four medics strapped emergency trauma kits to their thighs, and answered their superior back with a chorus of “Yes, sir.”

All the injured proceeded out of the medical ward and straight down the hallway towards their medical frigate, led by Regris, Danit, and Keenwar. 

Vrek and Ulaz stopped outside of doorway to medical, with Vrek taking the briefest of moments to rest his hand upon the doorframe, allowing one last tactile reminder of all the moments he had spent with his mate in this singular doorway: their first meeting, their awkwardness at trying to deny their feelings for one another, and finally- their bonding. His fingers graced the blood covered bond bracelet around his wrist, and entertained the thought that this was going to be the last time that he would ever step foot here again. Even through all the death he had witnessed in the confines of these walls, it had only felt right to recall the singular moments he had shared with Keith that had given him a new life. He didn’t know where Keith was right now, but he was glad it wasn’t here. _Please be safe, darling._

Ulaz snapped him out of his memories, “Take the north corridor, I’ll take the south. Circle around to the hangar and check for any survivors along the way. Don’t take too long and don’t do anything stupid.”

Vrek gave his mentor a thumbs-up -a very human gesture that he had learned from his mate- before removing his knife from its sheath and responding with, “I’ll see you in a tick.”

Vrek would not see Ulaz again. 

\---

Vrek sprinted down the hallways, pausing only at major intersections to scan the hallways for any injured allies. The damage to their base -to their _home_ \- was catastrophic. The base had been shelled within an inch of its life. The dome of which the base occupied was pressurized, so none of the impacts had caused any failure of the base’s superstructure, but the walls, ceilings, and floors were all sheared clean through- leaving Vrek with a clear view of the vastness of space beyond their sheltered walls. Wires were hanging down from the ceiling, sparks were flying out from in between damaged panels, and lights flickered on and off. It was a warzone. 

The fleet that had assembled out front of their sanctuary was massive, and it was enough to raze an entire planet. 

This was intended to be the Blades’ final stand. But it could not end here, and it would not end here. 

When Vrek could no longer feel the rumble of laserfire shaking the very foundations on which he stood, he knew that it could only mean something worse. _They’re launching boarding parties_.

Just down the corridor separating the bond mates’ quarters from the cafeteria, he found Segrani slouched against the wall, their body folded over themselves. Vrek brought his fingers up to their neck to check for a pulse and recoiled when his fingers dipped into the wetness of his trachea and came out covered in bright purple blood. Vrek searched the corridor and noticed the trajectory of which created a hole from one side of the hallway to another: a ricochet must have caught Segrani in the throat. There was nothing he could do. 

There was no time to mourn. He couldn’t afford himself the luxury of sadness right now. He picked himself up and continued down the hall. 

When Vrek was passing through the bond mates’ corridor, something possessed him to stop at the door to his room. He opened the door and leaned in just enough to grab his mate’s red jacket from its hanging place near their entryway. He didn’t know why it seemed so important to do, but he understood when he clenched the jacket in his fist and quickly brought it to his face. Inhaling the rich, smoky scent of his omega, he knew that he had needed to smell his mate again. Even if it was the lingering smell of an article of clothing not worn in phoebs, and even if it was a pale comparison for actually being able to scent Keith himself- it still offered him a temporary moment of euphoria as his whole world came crashing down around him. Vrek clutched at the familiar red garment like a kit holding its security blanket. He needed to get out of here so that he could be with his mate once again. 

Vrek bolted down the hallways, dodging through corridors and having to take detours once he could hear the metallic banging of Galra sentries marching through their base. It felt like an affront to everything he had known- like a tainted soul stepping foot on hallowed ground. 

His detour took him straight down a hallway that led him to another Blade. It was Ganda. She was still alive, but just barely. A piece of rebar had exploded from the wall beside her, and had impaled her through her hip and was propping her up against the wall. She was forced into an upright position as her blood pooled around her feet in a steady stream from her wound. 

“Ganda, open your eyes.” 

She did, but it clearly took more effort out of her than either of them would have liked to admit. Her voice croaked out of her throat as a meek whisper that seemed unbecoming of her boisterous personality. “Heya… Vrek… you go on ahead… I’ll catch up…”

She was fading. Fast. 

“Not without you. We’re both getting out of here. Just stay with me.”

Vrek opened up his trauma kit and applied a localized numbing agent to the area around her wound. If he wanted to move her he was going to have to cut through the rebar that was pinning her. Vrek set Keith’s jacket down on the floor and pulled out his luxite blade once more, transforming it into his machete with the hopes that he would be able to slice through this piece of rebar in a single blow. Once Ganda was free, he was going to have to give her a shot of adrenaline to keep her alert and moving if they had any chance of making it to the transports together. 

Vrek raised his blade above his head, about to bring it down on the piece of construction that was killing his teammate, when he heard the distinct whirring of a blaster being powered up. He didn’t have time to react before his machete was shot out of his hands, the superheated luxite glowing red as it clattered uselessly to the floor out of his reach. 

He weighed his options: he could run -but that would leave Ganda behind- so that wasn’t really an option. Even if he did run, the corridor was too long and too narrow for Vrek to find any cover from the onslaught of laser fire that would surely follow him. If he could reach his blade without being killed, he might be able to take out a few sentries before the rest gunned him down. 

There was no right play here.

Vrek turned to see a slender soldier flanked by a legion of sentries. The Galra was still aiming his rifle at him. Vrek lowered himself to a crouch and grabbed Keith’s jacket up off of the floor, a growl resonating through his entire being as the soldier and his sentries approached him. The Galra soldier stopped mid step in his advance, carefully eyeing the red and white jacket that was clutched in the Blades grasp. 

“Is that yours, or hers?” The soldier nudged his rifle in Ganda’s direction.

There was no response from the Blade other than the calloused growl that filled the void between them. 

“So that’s how it’s going to be. Fine, suit yourself.” The Galra soldier dispassionately aimed his rifle back towards Ganda and pulled the trigger. An arc of bright plasma sped past Vrek and hit Ganda- the blow was fatal and her death was instant. 

“NO!” Vrek’s remorse at being unable to save his comrade was quickly replaced with a burning rage for the imperial soldier that had executed a defenseless and wounded noncombatant. He couldn’t see anything other than the red-tinged vision of unadulterated hatred when he lunged towards the soldier, armed with nothing but his claws. His attack was abruptly stopped by two sentries that grasped at his upper arms and held him in place. 

The Galra soldier crossed in front of the body of the dead Blade pinned against the corridor wall and picked up the discarded luxite that he had shot out of Vrek’s hands. The soldier turned back to Vrek, and gave the medic a look over, his eyes pausing at his bond bracelet before flicking back to the jacket Vrek was hanging on to. “Fascinating.” He mumbled to himself. 

The soldier turned back and addressed his mechanical companions, “We take this one back with us. Continue your sweep of the base.”

Thrashing and writhing with all his might, Vrek couldn’t even make his metallic captors budge. He was utterly helpless to stop the butt of the rifle that brought itself down against the back of his skull. Vrek heard the impact before he felt it- a dull “THWACK” made his ears ring in the few ticks it took for him to feel the wetness start to seep down the back of his head. His vision started to leave him, and the last thing he could see before his world was consumed by darkness was the Galra soldier tearing Keith’s jacket from his hand. 

\---

Sergeant First Class Hepta was an ambitious Galra. 

He had been worried that the fall of Emperor Zarkon would put a tragic end to what he had hoped would be a lengthy and distinguishable military career. 

Quite the opposite had happened. In the power vacuum that had engulfed the fractured Empire, Hepta had seized the opportunity to ally himself with the only Galra he thought would have a fighting chance against quelling the other warlords that had taken up arms against Lotor’s detestable rule. 

Commander Sendak’s battle strategies were cruel, brutally effective, and relied on the philosophy that you do not stop kicking when your opponent is down- you stop kicking when your opponent is unable to do anything other than _stay down_. When Sendak had reappeared with the witch Haggar at the Kral Zera, Hepta knew he needed to find his way into Sendak's command. Not for the glory of the Empire or for the expansion of their territory, but for Hepta’s own sense of fulfillment: the prestige that accompanied being a part of the most powerful force in the galaxy was something that GAC couldn’t buy, and it was the one real thing that filled him with absolute joy. 

The raid on the Blade of Marmora base was his opportunity to prove himself to Commander Sendak. He was but a handful of non-commissioned officers to lead sentries through the hallways of the ruined rebel outpost, but he was the only one to come back with a prize; however, this also meant that he was the only one who had disobeyed Sendak’s orders to kill every Blade they had come into contact with. This was meant to be an extermination, but the opportunity that presented itself was too sweet to have let slip by. Hopefully Sendak would acknowledge the circumstance and reward him for his initiative. After all, Hepta was an ambitious Galra. 

Hepta had thrown their prisoner into a confinement cell in their holding area. Surely, if what Hepta had expected were to be true- then this would be the prisoner’s most comfortable accommodations for the short remainder of his days. It was unfortunate that he was not conscious enough to appreciate such a lavish abode. 

Had this been a normal prisoner, Hepta would have overseen an interrogation until he had squeezed relevant information out of him to take to his superior officer, but this was a special case. The mere existence of this prisoner would mean so much more than any information that he could have possibly been able to supply them with. 

When Hepta arrived on the bridge with his detachment of sentries, he presented himself to Commander Sendak and announced his presence with a stout and confident _“Vrepit Sa.”_ The Commander did not return his gesture. 

“Sergeant Hepta,” Sendak began, his steely gaze unreadable between his one golden, pupil-less eye and his glowing red cybernetic one. “Were my orders unclear to you?”

“No, sir.”

“So why, then- are we wasting space with a prisoner on my ship?” Sendak didn’t require prisoners. While Sendak held a certain amount of respect for the likes of Paladins of Voltron, the same could not be said for members of the Blade of Marmora. The Paladins were young, and they fought with a ferocity that rivaled that of any Imperial soldier; the Blade, on the other hand, were trained in deception. There was no honor amongst spies and saboteurs, no honor in hiding in the shadows and avoiding the fires of righteous combat. In Sendak’s eyes, it was a perverse form of warfare. He hated both the Paladins and their coalition forces in equal measure, but the Blades were _traitors:_ traitors to their empire and traitors to their species; to him, they were detestable and they deserved no leniency. 

“Sir, I had thought that this particular prisoner might have particular value, considering _this_.” Hepta held out the red and white jacket- the jacket assuredly worn by the human Red Paladin of Voltron. The jacket was small, distinctive, and clearly recognizable to Commander Sendak. 

It was no secret that Sendak’s undying hatred for the Paladins of Voltron was spurred by his humiliating defeat at their hands. The Paladins had bested him, and in that regard, Sendak considered them a worthy opponent, but the respect that he held for the Paladins did little to quell his hatred towards him. Sendak took no pleasure in perusing the Paladins across the stars, but his name and his honor would need to be restored, and the only way to do so- would be to deliver a similarly crushing defeat to the humans that had marred his reputation. This was something he _had to_ do. As a result, Sendak rewarded anyone that brought forth information that took him a single step closer to having his revenge on the Paladins.

Hepta dropped the jacket on the floor between them, and reached behind himself to present the small, blood-soaked bracelet of a bond mate. “I also cut this off of the wrist of the Blade carrying this jacket. If implications were to suggest…”

A cold shiver ran through the spines of the few Galra present on the bridge. The thought of someone of pure Galra lineage creating something as _sacred_ as a bond with a human half-breed was a disturbing one, so much so that a few Galra present even had to stifle gag’s at the thought.

“Interesting indeed.” Sendak finished the thought. If this had changed Sendak’s demeanor, or his outlook on Hepta’s situation at all- he made no signs of showing it. Sendak turned to the communications officer that was currently hunched over the bright displays of their console. “Contact the witch Haggar and make ready to receive her druids.”

Hepta’s spine straightened when Sendak’s gaze turned back towards him. He’d never met Sendak’s eyes before, the Galra Commander seemed like he might crush anyone who had dared such a feat. But Hepta had done well -exceedingly well by his standards- and that was reason enough to face his Commander with pride. 

“You have done well, _Lieutenant_ Hepta. You are dismissed.” This was most certainly a step closer to Sendak’s revenge. 

Hepta was giddy. His entire body tingled with the excitement at hearing his promotion coming from the legendary Commander Sendak. “Vrepit Sa.” He saluted and took his leave. Hepta was a very ambitious Galra, and it would serve him well to curry favor with Sendak. 

\---

Vrek was fading in and out of consciousness. When he had first opened his eyes, he found himself face-down against the unforgiving surface of a Galra holding cell. His short hair was matted to his skull, and when he was able to find the strength to weakly bring his fingers to the back of his head- he found a gash that was surrounded by quite a bit of swelling and bruising. 

_Concussion,_ he thought to himself. He tried to reach down to where his trauma kit should be, and found that it was missing. Everything he had had been taken. He brought his hands up in front of his face, and tried to recall all the things he had been holding. His hands were still covered in dried blood. The once bright purple fluid that had stained his extremities had dried into a crusty black substance that was now flaking off whenever he clenched and unclenched his fists. His tablet: gone. His knife: gone. His armor: gone. Keith’s jacket: gone. They had even cut his bond bracelet off of his wrist whilst he had been unable to stop them. _That_ was unforgivable. And _that_ , he would have fought fang and claw to keep.

Tears started to form at the corner of Vrek’s eyes as he weakly clutched at the newfound emptiness around his wrist. It was the singular reminder that he had of his mate, and without it, he felt as if he had been tossed out of an airlock and consumed by the oppressive nothingness of space. Bond bracelets were not meant to be removed. They were meant to stay attached to his wrist until death. 

_I suppose… that’s not too far off, now._ The thought burned into Vrek’s mind. He knew that he was going to die. He didn’t see a way out of this. 

The empire had truly taken everything from him. Everything except the love he still held in his heart for his mate. 

_Keith, I’m sorry_. 

He contemplated the future that awaited him. Of course, he had heard stories from other Blades: Blades that had been captured and rescued, and Blades that had been undercover and unable to assist their compromised companions and forced to bear witness to the fates that befell them. Most prisoners would be sent to a work-camp or a gladiatorial arena, however, the empire held a special contempt for the members of the Blade of Marmora… if Vrek was lucky, he’d be facing a firing squad and not worked for information until he had been tortured to death. 

But torture didn’t seem likely. If the empire had already discovered the location of their main base, what other information could he possibly divulge? Vrek spared a single moment’s thought for the Blade that must’ve given up the location of their base: their most coveted secret. The Blade of Marmora would survive, and it would endure as it always had, but, _how many had survived?_ He had hoped that Ulaz had gotten out as many Blades as he could… and he distantly hoped that somewhere, Regris was safe with him. 

Vrek’s vision started to fade once again, the darkness starting to fog and cloud his vision once more. _I need to stay awake... otherwise I..._

And then there was only darkness. 

\---

Vrek felt like he was falling through his memories. His entire life was being skimmed through and he was merely a passenger forced to relive the highlights of his life. 

The disappointment in himself at being unable to become a doctor. The wallowing in self-pity he had done. The hope that he was shown by Ulaz. The elation of finding a greater purpose. The horrors when he had seen what his empire was doing. 

Every emotion and every moment of his life was on display for him to see, to reflect upon, and to lament. He had to relive every failure he had ever made, and be burdened by the guilt that it had brought him. He watched himself panic the first time he had to perform surgery on a Blade who had stepped on a landmine: he had frozen, and it had cost them the valuable ticks that could have been used to save the Blade’s life. 

“Focus.” He could hear a voice echoing throughout his mind. Disembodied. Omnipresent. Commanding. The voice was full of malice, full of pain, and it was guiding him through his life like a dog on a leash. “Focus on the Red Paladin. Show me everything.”

 _Keith…_ The single light in the darkness. For all the death and destruction that Vrek had been forced to confront in his life- it had led him to Keith, and no amount of pain was insufferable as long as it had taken him to his mate. 

… He was standing in an arena, taking part in the trials of a human that had arrived at their base carrying a luxite knife from one of their own, and Vrek was to be his first opponent. When Vrek had come face to face with the small alien, he’d stated what he had known to be true, “Surrender the blade. You cannot win.” 

Their entanglement lasted but mere moments- with the small human lunging at Vrek and throwing himself at his opponent with a determined fervor that Vrek couldn’t help but admire. The human’s form (if one could call it that) was erratic: throwing kicks and swinging his knife without any semblance of grace or technique in a desperate bid to overwhelm his foe with the first set of punches thrown.

But Vrek was not this human’s typical type of opponent. Vrek had the patience and skills to outmatch the small human with ease. 

When the human tried to jab at him with his knife, Vrek caught his wrist. A single punch disoriented the human. A mere shove sent him careening towards the floor and rolling back away from him. He closed the distance between them. Vrek’s blade cut through the air and flowed around him like water; with the human desperately trying to focus on where Vrek’s blade _was_ and not where it was _going to be_ , it was easy for Vrek to keep his opponent’s full attention on the moment, keeping him unprepared for what was to come next. He was pushing the small human back, herding him towards the wall until he could retreat no further. He kicked, he spun, and he brought his blade down across the human’s shoulder.

A pitiful yelp escaped the small human- one more of shock than that of pain. The attack was meant to educate, not to draw blood. By this point, the human should have known that he was outmatched. A wiser opponent would have surrendered. Instead, the small, wounded creature clutched at his shoulder and readied his knife for another attack.

The human was undisciplined, unbalanced, inexperienced- but despite all of that, he was fierce, unrelenting, and possessed a will stronger than any Vrek had ever seen. When Vrek had stared into his eyes, he had very nearly burned himself in the fiery determination that was glaring back at him in the form of those beautiful violet irises. Vrek was in awe, and looking back… this might have been the moment he had fallen in love.

The human was already tired: his movements sluggish and his reactions slowed. When he thrust his knife out, it was almost as if his defeat was being presented to Vrek. 

Vrek slid his arm around the human’s, his long reach allowing him to snake his grip around his opponent’s to bend the human’s wrist and arm into the most basic of submission holds. When Vrek’s blade pressed against the back of the human’s neck- the boy knew that he was defeated.

“Surrender the blade and the _pain will cease_.”

“I won’t quit.” The small human spat back at Vrek with an animosity as if it was he who had held the upper hand in this battle. Vrek believed him. It was already very clear that the human would never, ever quit.

“Then the pain continues.”

The human hadn’t won the battle, but he’d passed the first test. Vrek released him, and the human turned back to face him as if questioning why his life wasn’t yet forfeit. Perhaps mercy was a foreign concept to this creature and his species. 

“You are not meant to go through that door.”

The human eyed Vrek wearily, before sprinting towards the door- unwittingly racing towards an unrelenting gauntlet of pain and torment.

Vrek knew that the human would not know when enough would be enough. As the human’s silhouette disappeared beyond the doorway to the next chamber, Vrek would whisper -almost imperceptibly- “ _Good luck_.”

Keith wouldn’t know it at the time, but Shiro was not the only one rooting for him in these trials. 

… Vrek was in medical when the door had opened, and the same small human was standing in his doorway, arms crossed over his chest as if he was either shielding himself from embarrassment or defiant at how he had been forced to talk about something so personal to him. “Hello, Keith. Regris said you’d be by.” Vrek heard himself say. Vrek couldn’t forget Keith, not when the small human had shown such incredible prowess in his trials. _That, and- the human was quite attractive._ But he would need to bury that thought for the sake of professional courtesy. 

“Yes… show me more.” The voice was persuasive, and Vrek was too willing to lose himself in the memories of his mate. 

He couldn’t stop himself even if he had wanted to. His thoughts and his feelings were being pulled out of the very fiber of his being and he was a captive audience in having to watch it all happen again. 

_… “Please-will-you-help-me-with-my-heat?”_ Keith had blurted out the whole sentence in but a single breath, throwing the words out into the ether before he would have a chance to swallow them back with his embarrassment. His face was a deep crimson and his eyes were solidly locked on to Vrek’s boots. Vrek was aghast. Why would such a strong, beautiful creature choose _him_? He could have had _anyone_ that he had asked for. _Why_ would he settle for someone so… plain?

Something began to feel wrong. Vrek could have lost himself in the memories he was watching, but something else was there with him. And it felt like an invasion. 

Their nights of passion during Keith’s heat. Their bonding. Their moments of quiet vulnerability during Vrek’s rut. Their bond training and the desperate need to want to call out to each other. Every moment of Vrek’s life with Keith was laid bare before his very eyes.

“Yes. You shared something special.” 

The voice snaked its way into every inch of the grey matter of Vrek’s brain. _No… these memories are_ _private_ _. These are_ _mine_. He couldn’t shake it out, as much as he tried. 

Their missions. Their vacation to Karrahe. The quiet moments of shared sadness. Their presence in the nest together. Presenting Keith with his bond bracelet.

Someone was rifling through his life and he couldn’t stop them.

… Vrek was resting his forehead against Keith’s. The two were holding each other in the hangar of the Blade’s base. Not knowing that this would be the last chance they would have together. Keith pulled back first, enough to break their embrace but still hold each other’s hands. 

“Get out of here, Vrek. Danit’s waiting. And the faster you leave, the faster you can get back.” Keith’s smile was reassuring, almost as reassuring as the kiss he placed on his lips after he spoke. 

“I shouldn’t be gone longer than a movement. Don’t let Kolivan send you on any of those suicide missions without me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. But you know our leader... he might have other plans.”

“I promise I’ll be back soon. I love you.” Vrek chased after Keith’s kiss with one of his own. Careful not to fall into the trap of his mate’s lips for too long. 

“I love you too, Vrek. Now get going.”

Unable to change what had come to pass- Vrek could do nothing but watch himself turn away from his mate and board the small shuttle. 

_No._

Vrek’s own footsteps echoed in his ears as if they were nails being hammered into the coffin that was sealing his fate. 

_Don’t let this be the last time. Don’t walk away. Don’t leave him, you idiot!_ Vrek was screaming at himself to stop. He was breaking: the hairline fracture of his delicate mind was beginning to shatter beneath the gravity of the realization that this would be the last time he would ever see his mate. 

_STOP! STOP! TURN AROUND! GO BACK TO HIM!_ Vrek was begging, pleading with himself. Trying to bargain with the ghost of a memory that had already set itself in stone. _At least turn around… at least let me see him one last time… please let me see him smile one last time._

Vrek closed his eyes, and tried to recall the slight curve of his mate’s lips: the subtle smile that Keith would give him that would never fail to take Vrek’s breath away. But in this moment, he couldn’t see that smile. Nothing could be done. He didn’t turn around. Vrek watched himself board the shuttle and leave Keith alone in the hangar.

He couldn’t watch this. He shut himself down. He closed himself out. Whatever his captors wanted he would give them freely as long as he wouldn’t have to watch this again. _Keith… I shouldn’t have left._

Everything faded away. Vrek was left trapped in the prison of his own subconscious as he curled into the fetal position and began to cry. He didn’t even register the manipulative voice in his head as it began to loosen its grip on his mind. 

“We will take from him what we need. When we’re finished, you may do with him what you will.”

\---

Vrek felt numb. He felt hollow. He couldn’t even _feel_ the cold floor of his holding cell. He couldn’t feel _anything_. He was curled in on himself in the center of the cell, like a pathetic, broken animal. _How long had he been here? Vargas? Quintants? Movements?_ The passage of time was imperceptible within the prison of this dimly lit cell. He could only vaguely recall being dragged in and out of his cell while he clung to the fringes of consciousness- but after that, there were gaps in his memory. _Where had they been taking him? What were they doing to him?_ Every waking moment he was bombarded with questions that he had no answers for.

When the cold sting of metal settled itself over his chest, Vrek snapped awake. He tried desperately to stay conscious this time, but his efforts were futile, as he could already feel himself sinking into the depths of the merciless darkness that was ensnaring his feeble mind. And then…

… Dreams…

… Nightmares…

… _Pain_...

… the specific details of his anguish always drifted out of his mind as quickly as they had appeared. The nightmares were already fading away. He couldn’t remember what he had been shown mere moments before he had regained consciousness, but the tell tale ache in his heart told him that whatever it was, it was killing him. After that, he was taken off the table and dumped back into his cell, once again isolated with the thoughts and questions as to what was happening to him. 

Vrek brought his hands up over his head, the tips of his pointed digits scratching at his skull as if he could try to claw the memories back out of his brain. It was as if there was a wall in his mind: some physic barrier shielding himself from whatever pain he was forced to forget. But he needed to know. He had to know. And so, he pushed, retracing his memories of the times he had been dragged out of his cell. 

_Remember_. 

He saw… white, angular faces… masks… with slitted eyes that looked straight through him and saw him only as an experiment to be toyed with and not a creature with a pulse. Vrek could almost see the eyes beneath the dispassionate mask: eyes that were cold and deadened to his suffering. A grey hand reached out from beneath black and red robes, placing itself over Vrek’s face and covering his eyes. The hand was freezing, as if it had belonged to a corpse, and in an instant, Vrek was someplace else. 

\---

Vrek was running. His legs were burning with the strain of overuse and his heart was thundering in his ears. There was a sense of urgency in his actions as he sped past looming columns of stone alongside another member of the Blade of Marmora. 

A flashing light blinked in the heads-up display hidden within his face mask. 

_6 doboshes remaining._

_This is… familiar. Is this...a memory? This happened. But this was all wrong._ Already having been forced to relive the memories that had broken his meek will, Vrek pieced together that _this_ was not the same thing. 

Curiosity eclipsed confusion as Vrek felt his limbs move on their own. He could feel what he was feeling: the cold, the fear, the adrenaline. But Vrek was watching himself act without having any say in what he was doing. 

Vrek rounded around a corner with his Blade companion -their boots sliding against the cold stone beneath them- to find their small, half-human comrade deactivating a detonator and dismantling the work that they had come here to do. 

“What are you doing?!” It was Ilun’s voice echoing through the chamber. “We have to go!”

“NO! Shiro and Lotor are up there!” The desperation in Keith’s voice was clear and Vrek should have buckled at the plea coming from his mate. Instead, he felt nothing.

 _This isn’t right_. Vrek could remember the Kral Zera. He wasn’t with Ilun, he was with Keith, already working with him to deactivate as many detonators as he could. The memory of what had actually happened that day was etched into his brain, so ingrained that Vrek could still feel the tactile response of the holographic displays on the detonators powering down as he disarmed them. 

_THIS_ was a dream. It had to be. 

And yet… everything felt so real: the bite of Feyiv’s atmosphere, the freezing stone beneath his boots, the pleading urgency in his mate’s voice. Everything seemed _real_. 

“Then you’ll die with them.” Ilun’s words were clipped and without compromise. 

Without any consideration for Keith, Vrek turned away from him and made a break for their escape route with Ilun, not sparing a single look back at their human comrade. He would be escaping with Ilun, and what remained of the Galra empire would burn in the purifying fires that the Blades had ignited… and if this operation had come at the expense of one Blade’s life, then so be it. 

Vrek couldn’t believe the thoughts that were pulsing through his mind. It was _his_ mind. These were _his_ thoughts. It was _his_ body. But _this wasn’t him_. He would never condemn Keith’s life like this… he would never arbitrarily condemn any of his brothers or sisters in the Blade like this. _This wasn’t him_. 

And yet- it was. He felt like himself. He felt the weight of his machete on his back. He could feel the air filling his lungs as he kept pace with Ilun until they had made it back to Ranveig’s ship… leaving Keith behind. 

When their bombs detonated, his thoughts weren’t of Keith and whether or not he was safe. His thoughts were only focused on whether or not their mission had been a success. 

\---

Vrek brought his hand up to his eyes, stretching his fingers out to massage his temples and briefly shield himself from the blindingly fluorescent lights. 

It has been an exceedingly boring day posted in the medical ward of the Blade of Marmora base, the type of boring that distorts the fabric of space-time until you can swear that the clocks are ticking slower. Vrek had busied himself with menial assignments from Ulaz: cataloging antiviral agents and creating an inventory manifest for the medical team. 

Vrek watched himself work with practiced movements. Everything seemed as it should be. This seemed… _right_. His time in imperial captivity seemed like a distant dream whose traumas were drifting out with the tide. 

Vrek was lost, thinking that, _This had to be real_. Everything was perfect: from the arrangement of the antibiotics (alphabetically and not by strength, as Danit had preferred), the piercing glare of the lights off of the reflective tables, to the detail of his handwriting as he jotted down simple notes on his tablet. Everything was so familiar that Vrek would be remiss to think that he was reliving another memory. _Please… please let this be real_. 

Shouts echoed down the corridor. The doors to the medical ward hissed open, with Regris carrying a much smaller Blade in his arms. The Blade was screaming and bleeding all over the floor, their blood a bright scarlet so unlike any other Galra that Vrek had treated before. 

_No. No, no. No, no, no_. _It can’t be.._. The sight of his mate bleeding out paralyzed his mind, and yet his body seemed to move on its own as if he had been unphased by what he was bearing witness to. 

“What happened?” He could hear himself ask, the candor of his words were cool and professional, betraying the anxiety attack that Vrek was experiencing trapped within his own mind.

“Ambush. It was the Earthling’s first mission with us. He wasn’t ready…” Regris set the small boy down on the table in front of Vrek, allowing him to inspect the wounds. “Can you help him?”

Keith was a mess, clearly having been caught in some type of explosion- with bits of shrapnel now trapped in his stomach and tearing through his insides with even the slightest of movements. 

_This_ Vrek’s heartbeat was steady- the calm exterior of an experienced medic as he inspected his patient. But the _real_ Vrek, the silent passenger in this scenario, could feel the panic creeping its way up his throat as it suffocated his every thought. He stared down into Keith’s eyes- the beautiful violet pools that he had so often sought comfort in- and now saw only terror and fear. 

“I can try…” Vrek cut open Keith’s uniform and placed his hand over where the human’s liver was, where a _Galra’s_ heart would be, before letting out a frustrated huff and letting his hands roam over Keith’s body in an attempt to quickly discern the differences in physiology. “... but Ulaz is the only one that has any experience with these humans. I don’t know anything about them.”

The Vrek that he had no control over grabbed a vial of Hextrafil, an anesthetic that worked on most Galra hybrids on base, and injected it into Keith’s neck. 

_No. No. NO_. Vrek wanted to scream. He wanted to punch himself. He needed to stop himself. _How could he be so cavalier?_ His own ignorance was going to get Keith killed. _Hextrafil worked on most hybrids, yes- but it’s a_ _Dextro-based_ _anesthetic and humans are a Levo-a_ _mino-based_ _lifeform. It would quicken Keith’s heart rate and-_

“He’s losing too much blood.” The words he could feel himself speaking were nearly indiscernible over the ringing in his ears and the fear in his brain. His hands worked to pull shrapnel out, but this wasn’t an anatomy that this version of him was familiar with. He simply hadn’t _bothered_ to look it up. He was precise to avoid where Galran arteries would be, but in his precision, he would clip a kidney pulling out bits of metal. 

“Do we have any blood that might be compatible with his?” Regris asked. 

“ _Look_ at the color. You tell me.” Vrek shot a glare up at his comrade. He was irritated, the human’s body was so _wrong_. It wasn’t like any other Galra he had seen before, and it seemed as if his efforts to save him were only making the situation worse. 

Vrek was powerless. Unable to save his mate _from himself_. From his own carelessness. The _real_ Vrek had spent countless waking hours studying human physiology in the event something like this had happened- hours of studying that _this_ Vrek had apparently neglected. All he could do is watch the mistakes that he was making with his own hands. 

_Wrong. Wrong. Wrong_. 

This other Vrek was biting his tongue hard enough to taste the metallic tinge of blood in his mouth. He was desperately trying to salvage an increasingly dire situation, and making all the wrong moves in the process. Every action he took to try to save Keith’s life pushed him further and further into the clutches of death. 

Blood was leaking out of the side of the human’s mouth, and Keith’s heart rate was now slowing down… slower and slower.... 

“He’s flatlining!” Regris shouted.

“I know!” Vrek worked frantically to try to recall where the hybrid’s heartbeat had been centered, and began compressions in an effort to help stave off Keith’s expiration. But his compressions were too slow: it was the wrong pace for a human. He wasn’t pressing down into the sternum hard enough: the pressure wouldn’t make it to Keith’s heart. Everything he was doing was wrong, and there was nothing that Vrek could do to tell himself how to do it right. 

“Get Kolivan! Tell him I need a direct line to Ulaz, now! It’s an emergency!” Vrek tried his best. He tried to hold on to his comrade’s life, but it was already far too late. Too many mistakes had been made. He was watching Keith die and he was helpless to do anything to stop it. “I don’t know what to do… I don’t know what to do…”

Vrek stared down at the dying body of his mate, and watched as the vibrant purple life left Keith’s beautiful eyes. _This is a nightmare._

_Please… please stop. Make it stop… I can’t watch this…_

Vrek didn’t know who he was pleading with, but he didn’t think he could sink any lower. 

\---

Vrek checked the charge on his rifle, feeling the comforting weight of the weapon in his hands hum with power.

He was submerged in darkness. The magenta hued visor of his helmet could barely compensate for the lights that had been knocked out. Keeping one hand fiercely gripped on his rifle, he reached down to fish out a flashlight from his medic’s trauma kit. The light that he brandished did little to illuminate the dark corridor, the small beam of light just barely piercing the dark veil before him. 

None of this was familiar to Vrek. To the _real_ Vrek. He didn’t know where he was, or what he was doing holding a rifle. But when he turned his head to see his reflection in the glossy black surface of the wall beside him, everything became painfully clear. 

Staring back at him was the iron-clad uniform of a Galra soldier. Shining silver was punctuated by the glowing red emblem of the empire, and stamped into the forearm of his armor in Galran letters were the words: **_CAPTAIN CYRIK_**. 

_This isn’t possible. It can’t be real. None of this is real._

This Vrek, this _other_ Vrek, he was alert. He had to be. A Galra battlecruiser didn’t just lose power. This was sabotage. Which meant that there would be a saboteur. 

A shadow moved in his peripherals, and Vrek instantly swung his rifle around and fired 3 shots after the blur that he had seen. The corridor was flooded with bright purple light as his laserfire chased after his assailant, but he was too slow, this target was too small, and before he could even react- his rifle had been knocked out of his hands. 

Vrek didn’t have a backup weapon, and his enemy was clearly brandishing a knife. 

There wasn’t time to think, Vrek reached back down to his trauma kit and snatched a medical scalpel out of his bag. It was all he had. 

His opponent was fast, cutting through the air with frantic slices as Vrek pulled his arms up defensively around his exposed neck. 

Vrek was trying to convince himself that all of this was a trick, an illusion, but the adrenaline that was surging through his veins begged to differ. He was fighting for his life.

It was still too dark to see, and his opponent, wearing all black, was nearly impossible to separate from the dense shadows of the corridor. 

Vrek staggered back as impact after impact clashed against his armor. He could feel the hits, but luckily, the armor plating he wore was thick enough that such attacks merely grazed off of him. Through the opening between his raised arms, Vrek could see his opponent for a brief moment. He was small- almost as if he were a child, which meant that even if Vrek were slower, that he would have greater reach. 

Vrek placed his back up against the hallway wall, and swung his sharp scalpel out in a wide arc around him. 

Something had connected, and a high pitched scream wrenched itself out of the throat of his enemy. He heard something mechanical and something wet: the distinct sound of metal cutting through flesh was accompanied by the electrical fizzle of something shorting out. 

_Wait. That voice.._. The pieces connected in Vrek’s mind one by one, but his own thoughts didn’t stop the movements of the body that he was trapped in. 

Vrek ducked down, kicking his leg out and sweeping his attacker off of his feet and letting him fall to the floor with a loud _‘THUD’_.

The lights came back on. Power was restored. 

Vrek found his rifle inches away from his feet and he scrambled to pick it up. When he turned back down the hallway, his attacker was still trying to recover from his fall. 

Time stopped.

Laying before him was a small figure dressed in the distinctive uniform of the Blade of Marmora. The Blade was clutching at his face, his facemask was damaged in the skirmish and it’s holographic appearance stuttered a few times before failing entirely. The Blade looked up at Vrek, and Vrek was faced with the fiery stare of Keith’s purple eyes. Vrek’s scalpel had apparently slashed through Keith’s cheek, painting the rest of Keith’s face with splashes of red. 

Vrek couldn’t believe he’d hurt his mate. He couldn’t believe that it was _him_ who had spilled Keith’s blood. Vrek wanted to rush to Keith’s side, to apologize, and to hold his mate and tell him that nothing would ever hurt him again. But instead, his feet were bolted to the floor, while his arms readied a rifle at the Blade sprawled out in front of him. 

_No. No. Anything but that. Please. Please don’t do it._ Vrek thoughts were pounding against the mental barrier in his mind. He _needed_ to act. He _needed_ to stop himself. He couldn’t let himself do this. If he could _just_ gain control of his trigger finger, if he could _just_ stop himself from pulling the trigger, maybe Keith could escape.

Vrek needed to hesitate. Maybe, if he hesitated, Keith could take the opportunity and gain the upper hand on him. Keith could close the distance and kill him. If it would save him, Vrek would gladly lay down his life for Keith’s. 

He couldn’t stop himself. He couldn’t will his limbs to obey him. All he could do was watch and beg.

_He’s your mate! It’s KEITH! YOU LOVE HIM._

Keith glared up at Vrek. His eyes did not ask for any mercy. 

And none was given. 

Vrek could feel his fist clenching around the grip of his weapon. The brief nanosecond that passed between his finger pulling the trigger, and the bright blast of superheated plasma that erupted from the barrel seemed to stretch on for an eternity. 

The blast hit Keith directly in the chest, and Keith’s body crumpled against the floor.

Vrek stared at the hole that he had created in his mate’s chest. The cauterized wound was still smoking as the embers of his actions burned through Keith’s soft flesh before his very eyes.

  
  


\---

Vrek was screaming. 

His hands were still covering his face and he could barely register a sharp pain as he realized he’d dug his own claws into his scalp and drawn blood. Lines of deep purple were streaming down the side of his head as tears were freely flowing down his cheeks. 

_Is this real?_

Vrek brought his hands down to the cold, hard surface of his cell. It felt real. But then again, what did that even mean anymore? It had all _felt_ real. But now, he could control his body again, meaning that whatever hell he now found himself in, it was a hell of his own creation. He glanced around the confines of his cell. He was still a prisoner, but even as a prisoner- this was a better life than any of the other alternatives he had seen. 

_Keith…_

His tears were clouding his eyes and blurring his vision, so he shut his eyes as tightly as he could. In the blackness of his solitary existence, Vrek was haunted by his mate’s face. He couldn’t see Keith’s smile, as much as he willed it to the front of his mind. Instead, all he could see was the fear in his eyes as Vrek failed him as his medic, and the animosity in his gaze before Vrek had shot him. 

When Vrek had allowed his vision to focus back on the reality around him, he noticed the Galra who had captured him -the Galra who had killed Ganda- standing outside of his cell. He was standing proud, wearing a new uniform, and looking smugly superior.

Vrek couldn’t even scrape together the rage that he wanted to feel. 

“I just wanted to thank you. Your capture has gifted me with an officer’s promotion. As gratitude, I wanted to let you know that we’ll be executing you tomorrow. So... enjoy your final few vargas in this world, traitor.”

 _Firing squad it is._ He thought to himself. 

\---

It was always a possibility that Vrek’s life would have led him here. From the moment he had taken up arms against the Galra empire, he knew that his actions could have brought him to this exact place. The thought had always lingered in the back of his mind, but he was almost too afraid to have even considered it as an eventuality.

Vrek had been led out to an empty hangar bay. In the center of the hangar, there were two posts stretched about two meters apart. Each of Vrek’s wrists were bound to a post, forcing him to stand with his arms outstretched from his body. Once he had been secured, the empty hangar was quickly filled with dozens of Galra soldiers. 

This was it. This was the end. Vrek was going to be staring down the barrels of a Galran firing squad and he was going to say goodbye to this world. 

Vrek might have hoped for some daring rescue to be waged by the Blades: perhaps Kolivan leading the charge to liberate him from his captors, or even his mate riding atop the Black Lion of Voltron itself to come bursting through the floor in some desperate bid to save him. As the seconds dragged on- neither outcome seemed likely. War had its consequences, and he needed to be ready to face them. 

He thought of his mate, of Keith- and what type of glaring defiance he would show in the face of certain death. Knowing Keith, he would probably say something along the lines of _Do your worst_ , or even- _is that all you got?_ Vrek wasn’t that brave. He wasn’t Keith. All Vrek could do was stand tall and face his death with some semblance of dignity. 

The booming voice of Commander Sendak rang throughout the room as he addressed his men. “Troops, I’ve gathered you here for the execution of a rebel. A Blade. A _Galra_...” Sendak’s words were spit with such contempt that everyone could feel the venom dripping off of his every syllable. 

Vrek could feel that his mate was somewhere far away, and he tried his best to hone in on that. No matter the distance, their bond was strong. And wherever Keith was- Vrek needed to get one last message out to him. 

“To fight is a noble gesture, but to turn against your own Empire, your own _species…_ there is no greater dishonor.” Sendak continued, meeting the eyes of every one of his soldiers and daring them to stare back.

_Keith, I’m sorry I can’t stay..._

“Let this be a lesson to any of you that there is a price to be paid for defiance.” 

_Meeting you was the best thing to have ever happened to me…_

“And for that…”

_... I love you…_

“... we shall show him no mercy.”

_... Be strong and be brave-_

Vrek’s thoughts were cut off as Sendak held up the familiar iridescent black and amethyst of his blade for all to see. The very distinctive dagger was clearly Vrek’s, and it made his fur stand on edge seeing it in the hands of Commander Sendak. And _there,_ almost hidden in the movement- tied around the hilt of his own knife... a small string of silver, purple, red, and black… his _bond bracelet._

“This blade was used against _you_ , soldiers. Against the _Galra Empire_. This traitorous whelp isn’t worthy of a firing squad, and I can think of no better punishment than turning the knife that was bared against the empire back against its owner.” 

_Please be brave, Keith..._

“And it shall be up to _you-_ the very soldiers that this traitor had sought to end- to deliver _the killing thrust_. Vrepit Sa.” Sendak dropped the knife into the hands of his new lieutenant, and stepped away to secure his view of the proceedings. 

Vrek tried to swallow the lump in his throat as the Galra soldiers before him organized themselves into a line. 

_… and Goodbye._

He tried to shut out his connection with his bond mate as best as he could- he didn’t know if that was possible. Surely, wherever Keith was- he could feel the fear that was twisting its way through him; but Vrek didn’t want Keith to have to feel the physical pain that he was about to endure. He didn’t know if it was possible to lessen the blows that might reverberate through their bond. They had faced everything together: they shared their love, they had shared their happiness, and they shared in each other’s fair share of sadness. Vrek was pleading to his ancestors that Keith wouldn’t have to share in his pain. 

The Galra lieutenant approached him. With a single, prejudicial thrust, he shoved Vrek’s own luxite blade into his stomach. “Vrepit Sa, _traitor_.” The Galra whispered. 

Vrek tried to choke back the pain he felt when his knife was buried in his gut. He promised himself that he wouldn’t scream. He wouldn’t give them that satisfaction. He was going to face this with the dignity and courage that his mate would have had: he would make Keith proud in that regard. He stared at the Galra with all the intensity he could recall when he had lunged at him back inside the Blade’s base. He bore down into the Galra officer’s soul, wanting to burn this look of rage into his heart so that he would never forget him. When the officer broke eye-contact first, Vrek counted that as the smallest victory he could rally given the circumstances.

The Galra officer removed the knife, stepped back, and handed the piece of luxite to the soldier behind him. The trooper took the blade, stepped up to Vrek, and thrust the dagger back into Vrek’s belly. “Vrepit Sa.”

Vrek stared into the magenta visor of the helmeted soldier, trying to meet his gaze through the glass that separated them.

This time, the pain itself took a few ticks to register. Vrek’s knife was sharp, and luxite didn’t lose its edge. The blade was sharp enough to make clean cuts through his own organs and Vrek could only start to survey the damage when the blade was removed from him and the blood started to seep out of his wounds. 

_Be brave, Keith. I love you._

“Vrepit Sa.” The third soldier took his turn and twisted the knife inside of Vrek once it had been embedded in him. 

Vrek attempted to distract himself with medical facts- statistics- anything that he could to free himself of what was really occurring at this moment. His thoughts were brought back to Karrahe, when he was a small child, sitting at the old man’s cart- when he promised himself that he would become a doctor. He had never kept that promise. 

“Vrepit Sa.” Pain. Immediate. Sharp, miserable pain.

Vrek’s eyes dropped to his bond bracelet, now tied around the hilt of his blade and dispassionately lodged into his gut. The strands of fabric were now dyed purple with his own suffering, and the metallic black cord was still shining in the lights of the hangar: it was meant to be unbreakable and unending. He was meant to be with his mate. 

_Be brave, Keith._

When the next soldier had thrust Vrek’s knife into him- he screamed. Vrek howled in agony. Another broken promise amongst foundations. He had promised Keith he would be back soon. He had promised Keith that they would always be together. They had promised each other that they would win this war.

_I love you... Be Brave..._

Vrek cried for his mother, and he cried for his mate. Vrek screamed so loud he thought his lungs were on fire. He screamed until the next soldier approached him and thrust his knife into his chest and punctured one of his lungs, and then Vrek’s screams devolved into short gasps as he struggled for air while drowning in his own blood. 

_I… love… you..._

After the tenth soldier, his legs had stopped supporting him, and Vrek was forced to hang by his restraints. He could feel the harsh metal of his handcuffs cutting into his wrists, and he tried to alleviate that pain by standing back up on his feet. But he couldn’t hold himself up anymore, and whenever he willed his legs to move, his boots slipped in the blood that was pooling beneath him. 

_Be… brave..._

After the thirteenth soldier, he had lost consciousness. His mind and his body could no longer comprehend the pain that he was in or the trauma that it was being put through. With the darkness inevitably encroaching on the edges of his mind, his final thoughts were of Keith… accompanied by the final word that Vrek would ever conjure:

… _goodbye_.

Before long, Vrek was dead, with his body hanging limply from his restraints as Galra soldiers continued to stab his lifeless corpse. When one of the soldier’s noticed that Vrek was no longer breathing, they looked at Commander Sendak for guidance, silently asking for permission to stop this display of excess. 

Sendak leveled a cold stare at the body of the dead Blade, and ordered his soldiers, “ _Continue_.”

\---

The Galra soldiers continued their assault until they had all taken their turn. Sendak had ordered every soldier stationed aboard his flagship to be present for this execution: this was as much a punishment for the traitor as it was Sendak’s way of teaching his troops about the gravity of betrayal. The Blades had no honor, and he would not dignify them by giving them the decency of a quick death.

It had taken nearly two vargas for every soldier to have participated in the execution. 

When the proceedings had finished, Lieutenant Hepta brought the blood covered knife back to his commander, and presented it to him as if it were a delicate artifact. “Commander, should we dispose of the body?”

“In a manner of speaking, Lieutenant. Ready a fighter.”

\---

After their base was compromised, the Blade’s had all scattered for a few quintants before reconvening in a ship disguised as a passenger transport. The ship was large, but not large enough to be compared to the size of a Galra battlecruiser. It had no offensive capabilities, but it was able to provide port to every single escape craft that was used in their desperate attempt to flee what remained of the Galra empire. This was their new home for the foreseeable future. 

Kolivan had summoned Ulaz to the bridge to inform him that there was a Galra ‘Dart’ fighter drifting through the sector and it was issuing a general distress call on the Blade’s frequency. 

It was a gamble. No Blade would have ever risked broadcasting an S.O.S on an open frequency. Something wasn’t right. 

A decision had to be made. The Blade’s had taken a massive hit when their base had been destroyed, and no small percentage of their forces had given their lives in defense of that base. At this point- the Blades could use all the members they could salvage together- and even a single survivor would ease the burden that was currently crushing Kolivan’s own dwindling resolve. 

“I know better than to ask the Universe for good news,” Kolivan had stated. “This war has been going on for too long for me to consider myself an optimist, but... if there is even the slightest possibility that there is a Blade in need, we cannot ignore them.” To which Ulaz had agreed.

Secretly, Kolivan had hoped for the best. 

Hope was a dangerous thing: hope could keep you clinging to life for a few more precious moments, but in the endless oppression of the empire’s never ending onslaught- hope was a luxury that Kolivan could no longer afford. 

The universe had delivered him Voltron: the legendary defender- and their struggle against the Galra had taken larger strides than it had in lifetimes. Zarkon was dead, and they had installed a new leadership sympathetic to peace. All that was left were stragglers and warlords... this _should_ have been the easy part of the war. And yet, somehow, everything had fallen apart. More Blades had died in the last movement than in the last few decaphoebs combined. How did this happen? Perhaps it was a punishment for having dared to have hoped once more, and Kolivan’s penance was for him to preside over the most devastating defeat their order had ever seen.

And here he was: hoping yet again. Kolivan would never learn what the universe seemed so desperate to teach him.

Precautions were taken. Scouts were deployed to sweep nearby planets to ensure that there wasn’t a contingent of Galra ships waiting in ambush. Technicians volunteered to scan the ship for booby traps prior to bringing the fighter on board. Every variable was accounted for, and when the fighter was finally pushed into the hangar bay- Kolivan thought he would be ready for whatever the universe could throw at him next. 

Kolivan was flanked by both Schippa and her mechanics along with Ulaz and his medics. If the fighter had been rigged with some type of trap that they had missed -perhaps a homing beacon or an explosive device- then Schippa would work quickly to deactivate it. Should there have been an injured Blade in dire need of medical attention, Ulaz had assembled the remaining medical staff along with a crash cart and remedies for everything ranging from malnutrition or internal hemorrhaging. 

When the fighter’s cockpit was pried open, all of the Blades stopped. No one could find the words to describe what they were seeing. No one could wrangle the emotions that they were feeling. All they could do was stand there- as if they were frozen, and stare.

 _Why?_ Kolivan thought privately. _Why does the universe do this to me?_ Kolivan had been the leader of the Blades for quite some time, and in that time, he’d had to make terrible choices that had sent men to their deaths. Members of the Blade of Marmora did not fight for recognition, they did not fight because they enjoyed it, they fought because they knew that the tyranny of the empire could not stand. Every Blade was a good person- every Blade held a belief deep in their heart that they would lay down their life so that _tomorrow_ would bring a brighter future. To Kolivan, every member of the Blade of Marmora was a hero. 

And heroes did not deserve what was done to poor Vrek.

What had been done to Vrek was a message.

Kolivan should have always been prepared for eventualities such as these. He knew better than anyone what happened to spies once they were caught, and the remorse that had always felt when he knew one of his agents had been compromised had physically affected his health on more than one occasion. But there was a dispassionate understanding from behind his desk- waiting on reports that would never come. He knew of the torture that traitors of the empire would endure, but thinking about that in abstract was very different from the grim reality that he was now confronted with.

\---

Ulaz was the first to speak, and after clearing his throat, he immediately dismissed all the Blades that were present: medical and maintenance crews alike. 

Kolivan was, as always- stoic. His permanent scowl had become an impenetrable mask in of itself, so much so- that Ulaz would have forgiven anyone for thinking that their leader didn’t _feel_ because he did not seem to emote. Ulaz knew better. Kolivan was hard to read, yes- but the pain on his face was clear to Ulaz as if he had been openly weeping. 

Doboshes passed in silence. Ulaz half expected Kolivan to make the first remark once the others had left them some privacy, but such words were never formed.

“Kolivan. You should go. I’ll take care of this.” Ulaz placed a hand on Kolivan’s shoulder, snapping Kolivan out of whatever deep thoughts he was nursing. 

“Of course.” Was the only response Kolivan gave before he left.

\---

Ulaz had pulled Vrek’s body from the cockpit and laid him on the hangar floor. 

Vrek was a mess. Every square inch of that cockpit was covered in his blood. There were stab wounds littered throughout his entire torso- so many that Ulaz couldn’t even discern how many times he had been stabbed or which injury was the one responsible for his eventual death. His wrists were cut down nearly to the bone- clear indications that he had been hanging solely by his restraints for some time. There were simply no words that Ulaz could use to describe how Vrek had been executed: he had been _minced_. It was barbaric. 

Ulaz was certain that a majority of these wounds must have occurred post-mortem; Vrek wouldn’t have survived long with even a handful of these injuries, and there was no way that he would’ve been breathing when the final blow was inflicted. 

He had seen many horrors during his years of service with the Blades. His infiltration work had been by far the most trying experience of his lifetime: constantly seeing prisoners sent to their deaths in the arena, watching the druids drain the quintessence of people for their experiments. But those things had been done with reason- the gladiators for entertainment and the experiments for the sake of scientific progress; reason made these actions no less abhorrent, but logic could be found there. What was done to Vrek was cruel and senseless.

Ulaz sat down next to the lifeless body of his former colleague, bringing his palm to rest on Vrek’s forehead.

He was so cold. 

“Forgive me, Vrek,” the tremble of Ulaz’s voice was apparent. “We waited for as long as we could. We waited until the hangar was about to collapse around us. But I… I should have gone back for you. What if I’d gone back for you instead of waiting? Would I have been able to help you? Would you still be here...?”

Ulaz tried in vain to steady his breathing. He knew that if Vrek could respond, that he would say that ‘ _he would’ve made them leave_ ’, that ‘ _he didn’t blame Ulaz for his death_ ’ and that Ulaz ' _did the right thing_ ’. Ulaz could almost hear all the things that his friend would have told him and yet it didn’t stop him from feeling any less guilty. 

“I... I’m so sorry. I am so _sorry_ , Vrek.” Ulaz placed his head in his hands, burying his face in shame as he unwittingly spread Vrek’s blood across the sides of his mohawk. “I was monitoring the Karrahe Medical Academy’s records. You excelled in almost every category. When I had seen that you had been marked as AWOL before being deployed with the empire... I knew. I knew that you would become a Blade.”

“You were brilliant.” Ulaz sniffled, he was trying and failing to maintain whatever composure he had.

“I recruited you. I set you on this path. This is my fault.” Ulaz forced himself to stare at the horrors that were inflicted upon his companion, his own form of punishment for his hand in killing Vrek. “I booked passage to Karrahe and I found you because we _needed_ another medic, and you were the best candidate. I dragged you into this. You trusted me and I led you here, and I am so… _so_ sorry.”

Ulaz started to cry. He pressed his hands to his eyes and he tried to stop the tears- he couldn’t remember the last time he had cried. His body convulsed from the sadness and soon he was blinded from the tears that were filling his eyes. It had been too long since Ulaz had allowed himself to feel like this, and in the solitude he found in the empty hangar surrounded only by the dead- now was as good a time as any.

How many friends had Ulaz outlived? How many Blades had he let die? 

And then there was Thace. _His_ _Thace_. 

Blades didn’t have the luxury to afford themselves the time to grieve. But the tears that now freely fell from Ulaz’s face were long overdue. 

He’d done terrible things. Replacing Shiro’s arm was only the tip of the proverbial iceberg, and none of the other experiments he had assisted with had escaped like Shiro had. Vrek hadn’t been undercover: he was a spy, yes- but a medic first and foremost. Vrek’s priority was _helping_ people, and the promise of saving lives is what had seduced him to the Blades in the first place. Vrek was noble and pure- and he had a life… a _mate_ , waiting for him after this war was over. So why did he have to die?

When Ulaz had finally been able to pull himself together, he placed Vrek’s body on the crash cart so that he could load up a coffin and fire his body into the nearest star. It wasn’t nearly the burial that the man had deserved, but it was the best they could do. 

Reaching inside of the blood-drenched cockpit, Ulaz recovered three things: Vrek’s knife, his bond bracelet, and Keith’s red jacket. He would hold on to these things until the day came where he could deliver them to Keith.

Once the rest of the Blades would hear what had happened to Vrek, they would want revenge. Every Blade knew that their line of work was dangerous and even as dispassionately as they tried to operate, _everyone_ had known Vrek. Vrek was their medic, he had been there to patch up every one of these Blades, so it was going to be hard for everyone not to take this personally. Ulaz couldn’t let that happen. Their numbers were too thin to waste on some misguided notion of revenge. They needed to be smarter. They needed to be _better_ than the empire. Cruelty begets more cruelty, and so- the wheel just keeps on turning. 

They needed to defeat what remained of the empire, and they needed to build something better in its stead. 

“I promise you, Vrek. We’ll be better.” Ulaz said his goodbyes to his friend, and lamented that Vrek wouldn’t be able to see the new world they were building on the rubble of the old. 

Ulaz ejected Vrek’s body from the ship, and he watched out of the viewport as the coffin was swallowed by the void. 

\---

News of Vrek’s death travelled quickly throughout the ship. 

No one would handle it well, least of all Regris- who had since resorted to locking himself in his own quarters without coming out for food or water. It took nearly a movement before the medics could pry open his door and hospitalize him. 

Everyone would ask Ulaz how exactly Vrek had died, since Ulaz was the only one to get a good look at the wounds. Ulaz wouldn’t say. Those that had been present would only recall that there was more blood than they could have ever possibly described even in their most vivid of nightmares. 

As the war waged on, movements and phoebs would pass- but the conversation of Vrek’s execution would always drift back to the circle of conversations. Every discussion would end in the same hushed tone, and a singular question that was prompted would always silence all parties involved: 

  
  


  
  


_What happened to Keith?_

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Artist Credit: @eeniiart on Twitter


	13. What Bleeds Through

_"Vr... Vrek...?"_   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
_"Keith...? Is... Is that-?"_

***

Sorry for the tease, everyone. Not a full chapter here, just my closing remarks regarding the fic as a whole. After having written Chapter 12 and realizing how utterly soul-crushing it is, I decided that I couldn’t leave the fic on such a dour note, and I wanted to reassure everyone that _THIS IS NOT THE END_. 

Initially, I was at a bit of a loss for _how_ to communicate some semblance of hope after Chapter 12… but Greenerghosty stepped up to bail me out of my predicament. So a huge, immeasurable thanks goes out to them for illustrating something that is so breathtakingly beautiful and so painfully emotional that I feel any adjectives I could possibly conjure to describe the reunion between these two would pale in comparison to what they have so perfectly captured. If you haven’t already, please give them a follow on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/greenerghosty/status/1268989374802407425), [tumblr](https://greenerghosty.tumblr.com/), and [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/greenerghosty/). They put so much effort into their work and it needs to be shared amongst the VLD community. 

But this story is not over and there is still _much more_ to say about this relationship and the aftermath that ensues. After all, while love is about joy and happiness- it also is about loss and pain, perseverance and growth… and sometimes, very rarely... it can be about the impossible. Keith is in pain now, yes- but it’s a pain that Keith is going to need to learn how to live with. 

And don’t worry, this is not the end of Vrek. I love him. Keith loves him. And when you love someone as completely and as wholeheartedly as Keith loved Vrek, then that person is never truly gone from your life. The echoes of Vrek will continue to live on in some capacity, and these two will see each other again. I promise. 

  
  
  


**More thanks:**

This story wouldn’t be possible without [HypotheticalWoman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HypotheticalWoman) having been an absolute legend and having made me (and apparently so many of you) fall in love with Vrek in the first place. _“In the Back of our Mind”_ was born entirely from my own selfish desire to see more of Keith’s relationship with Vrek, and my lingering questions as to who Vrek was and how his mating with Keith would have affected the events that followed. Liz, if you’re reading this: you are an inspiration and a friend... and it was an absolute privilege of mine to carry the narrative torch for these characters for a while. I hope that my fledgling skills as a writer is still enough to do these characters, _your_ characters, proud. 

HypotheticalWoman has two current on-going epics, a Voltron one, and a BTS one, which can be found here:

["Turn My Back and Catch Me"](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1496411)

[Lost Souls Bar And Grill](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1929070)

I cannot recommend her work highly enough, and I hope that one day- the quality of my own writing will live up to the characters that she has created. Even if you are not a fan of some of the fandoms that she writes in- I would say to give her pieces a read regardless; she imparts so much character and charisma into each story that she writes that it compels me to become a fan of things I would have otherwise never considered. 

**Additionally** , I would like to thank Eenii Szotyla for creating most of the Keith/ Vrek illustrations that accompany this fic. She did an absolutely brilliant job capturing the intimacy and playfulness between these characters, and in the moments where I found myself struggling to keep writing- her art definitely pushed me to do her work (and these characters) the justice that they deserve. 

There is only one other fic that I am aware of that she also created accompanying illustrations for- and that can be found here:

[Ship of Fools](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23482894/chapters/56303464)

Otherwise, you can find Eenii on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/EeNiiart) and [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/szotyola/).

  
  
 **Lastly** , I would like to thank each and every one of you: everyone who viewed, kudos-ed, commented, and stuck around for this wild ride. It was _your_ enthusiasm and _your_ excitement that drove this fic forward. I know that this story won’t get the attention that larger fics with more popular pairings typically receive- and it’s _because_ of that that I feel especially indebted to all of you for giving this story a shot and for sticking through until the end. Thank you so much for being here with me, and I hope that the next time you watch VLD, that when Vrek is mentioned- you can recall his character with a warm fondness and think of some reality and what could have been. 

This was my first endeavor on Ao3 and my very first creative writing project, so please forgive me if I stumbled in areas. If it was ever evident that I struggled in some areas of writing, please let me know so that I can know what to focus on in the sequel! I do legitimately want to hear your criticism so that I know what areas of my writing require improvement so that the next installation in this series can be even better for you all. 

Regardless of some amateurish mistakes that I’m sure I’ve made- it was an absolute honor of mine to have given you all some amounts of entertainment, and I would thank each and every one of you for your time and attention. If you haven’t yet dropped a comment on this story, do so now! Say hello! Did you have a favorite part? A favorite chapter? A least favorite chapter? A favorite piece of art? I would love to meet the people who have taken this collective journey with me.

You are all the very best. Thank you all so very much for everything. Now if you’ll excuse me, there is some plotting, planning, and writing that I must attend to… 

Until next time!

Up Next, “What Bleeds Through”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Artist Credit: @greenerghosty on Twitter/ tumblr/ and Instagram


End file.
